Friday the 13th 2
by comicbookfan23
Summary: For a detailed summary of this, the sequel to FRIDAY THE 13TH 2009, please read the first chapter. A new character's been added to the mix, death scenes are a lot gorier and bloodier than before and an ending that will be less confusing.
1. Details

**Authors' Note**: I give a "massive" THANK YOU to all the readers out there who have took their time to read my "re-imagining" of the 1980 horror classic "Friday the 13th". The story has reached over 1,000 hits and it's still counting. It may not seem like a lot (compared to my other stories) but it is to me and for allowing it to go over 1,000, I've decided to continue my "re-imaginings" with my next story "FRIDAY THE 13TH II" just for your enjoyment. It will run along the basis of _Friday the 13th Part 2_ but, like before, it features a new character, new plot-lines and gorier death scenes that are guaranteed to make you thirst for more! Hahaha!

Moving on, I also have a special surprise for all of you because, joining me in writing up this sequel, is an avid fan of mine, Teenaged Angst, who will be just as involved in this project as I am so I'm really looking forward to getting the ball rolling.

So, I've written up the "Details" page and we've both brainstormed the Prologue so please R & R them both 'cos your reviews are what keeps our inspiration going! Lets also try to beat FRIDAY THE 13TH 2009 hit score at the moment: 1,367! *winks*

* * *

**Friday the 13th II (2009)**

Overview:

Director: _Marcus Nispel_

Writers: _comicbookfan23/Teenaged Angst_

Release Date: _9th July 2009_

Genre: _Horror/Suspense_

Tagline: _"The body count continues…"_

Plot: _5 years after Mrs. Voorhees is killed, the camp counsellor training retreat sitauted across the lake from the now desolate Camp Crystal Lake is plagued by a psychotic person wearing a pillowcase tightly over his head. One by one, the counsellors are killed in gruesome and violent ways. Ginny, on the other hand, wants to stay alive and will do anything to do so…_

Cast:

Katie Cassidy - Ginny Field

Scott Porter - Paul Holt

Shantel VanSanten - Terri

Chris Owen - Ted

Hanna Hall - Sandra Dier

Dave Franco - Mark

Matt Barr - Jeff

Dustin Milligan - Scott

Leighton Meester- Vicki

Mila Kunis - Chantelle

James Patrick Stuart - Deputy Winslow

Derek Mears - Jason Voorhees

**With**

Emily Browning - Alice Hardy

Marcia Cross - Becci Hardy

Tobin Bell - Crazy Ralph

**And**

Nana Visitor - Pamela Voorhees (flashbacks)

(Everyone else are considered extras)

**Additional Details**:

MPAA/BBFC: _Rated R/Cert 18 for strong bloody violence and gore, sexual content, nudity and language_


	2. Prologue Two Months Later

The night loomed over a small cul-de-sac somewhere in the suburbs with the Moon accompanying it high in the starry sky, illuminating with its sheer brilliance. Residents of this little cul-de-sac were either watching the TV or sleeping but a boy, maybe 10 or 11 years old, wearing a noticeable yellow rain-coat with matching Wellington boots was playing about on the street on his own, splashing in the puddles created by the rainfall earlier that evening and singing one of his favourite songs he learned when he was a little younger.

_"The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout,_

_Down came the rain and washed the spider out,_

_Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,_

_And the itsy bitsy spider crawled up the spout again."_

With his dark chocolate-brown eyes more interested on the pavement and the puddles than in front of him, he didn't notice a tall man standing on the sidewalk and accidentally bumped into him. He slowly stared up to the man, who seemed to look like a 'giant' in comparison to himself, and innocently smiled, "I'm sorry mister."

The man, his face hidden by shadows, tilted his head to the side, like a dog would when it doesn't understand its master's command. They both just stare at each other for like an eternity but in reality, it was only a minute or two. They were then disturbed by the voice of the boy's mother calling out to him from the front porch.

"Thomas! Thomas, you come right on in here! It's nearly your bedtime!"

"Okay Ma!" Thomas took one more look at the towering man, still smiling before waving goodbye, running toward his mother and they both return to the soothing warmth of their house. The man watched him disappear before turning back to what he was originally looking at before he was 'disturbed'. A quaint little house set right in the middle of the circle, with a white picket fence and a beautiful, flowery garden. He was out to get the person who lived inside that house and no-one was going to stop him from achieving his goal…

* * *

Inside the very house, the stranger was eyeing from outside Alice Hardy, one of two survivors of the 'Camp Crystal Lake Murders', was lying fully-clothed on her bed asleep, but judging by her constant mumbling, she was obviously having another nightmare of that dreadful night. They invade her mind like a hyperactive puppy wanting its owner's attention 24/7.

-- _In the dream she was running out of the main cabin, after Brenda's body was thrown through one of the kitchen windows, and skidded to a halt once she saw someone climbing out of the jeep. The woman looked to be in her late 40's-early 50's by Alice's quick observation; with short, curly-like ginger hair and she wore a blue woolly sweater that stood out among the dark, along with dark jeans and hunting boots, but what stood out to Alice most of all was the woman's large smile, backed up by large white teeth._

"_Who are you?" Alice heard herself asked as the woman continued to smile._

"_Why, I'm Mrs. Voorhees. An old friend of the Christys," she answered, her voice seeming to echo into the night._ --

Back in her bed Alice turned over onto her other side, moaning as her nightmare continued without no stops…

-- _Alice was frantically trying to tell Mrs. Voorhees that everyone else was dead, and that they needed to get out of there, but she didn't seem to be listening._

"_No, no! They're all dead! They're all dead!"_

_Mrs. Voorhees nodded, seemingly not affected by this little known fact, "All right. I'll go and take a look."_

"_Please, don't leave me. They'll kill you too."_

"_It's alright," she kept reassuring, "I'm not afraid," and with that Mrs. Voorhees left to venture into the cabin that Alice had just ran out of crying out for help._ --

Since the incident Alice had had her long, red hair cut to just above shoulder-length, and it was now clinging to the sweat that was forming on her face as she fisted the sheets beneath her and muttered a short, "No!"

-- _Mrs. Voorhees was leaning against the frame of the archway between the kitchen and the living room, explaining to Alice about the incident that happened years ago in '57..._

"_Did you know a young boy drowned? The year before those two others were killed. The counsellors weren't paying any attention! They were making love while that young boy drowned!"_

_Alice, at the time, was slowly edging toward the front of the sofa, giving her space between herself and Mrs. Voorhees who was slowly walking toward her, "His name was Jason." (CH CH CH AH AH AH) Her voice was back to being "motherly", soft and delicate, as she got closer to Alice, "I was working the day it happened. Preparing the meals. Here. I was the cook." This was when Mrs. Voorhees took it upon herself to grab Alice sharply by the top of her arms, "Jason should've been watched! Every minute! He was -- ." The woman paused, smiled a little as though what she was about to say might seem funny, "He wasn't a very good swimmer." Her hand was softly brushing down Alice's silky red hair as she laughed again before her expression changed to that of seriousness, "We can go now, dear."_ --

Alice, reflexively slapped the mattress with the palm of her hand in distress as the nightmare continued to harass her mind…

_-- "Oh, my sweet, innocent Jason." An image of him thrashing in the water passed Mrs. Voorhees' mind, "My only child. Jason." Suddenly Jason disappeared underneath the water, due to fatigue. The waters of the lake going back to being still again. This ending the imagery._

_As another tear traced down her cheek Mrs. Voorhees sharply turned her attention back to Alice, who was now standing beside the fireplace, her expression was now full of anger and torment, "You let him drown! You never paid any attention!" She grabbed the small table that was blocking her way and tossed it over to one side, "Look what you did to him…" Then she lifted up her jumper enough to show off the holster attached to the belt which held a Bowie knife, it glinting in the firelight as she unsheathed it._

"_No," Alice cried, shaking her head before looking around frantically for something she could use to defend herself with._

"…_LOOK what you DID to HIM!" Mrs. Voorhees raised the knife above her head and suddenly charged at her, screaming as she charged, as Alice grabbed one of the fire pokers and swung it with all her might. The hit was successful. It struck Mrs. Voorhees' hand that was wielding the knife by surprise, causing her to drop it and send her keeling over the sofa. Alice lifted the poker again and slammed it hard against the woman's back, knocking her down, for the moment._

_Wasting no time Alice ran for the door, crashing through the furniture. she'd built up to barricade it crying and reaching out desperately for the doorknob._ --

"No! Please, no," Alice mumbled a little louder this time, gripping the bed-sheet tightly between her fist…

_-- "AAARRGGHH!" She heard herself scream as she stared at the dead body sitting in the passenger seat, head completely chopped in two and blood everywhere. Alice immediately backed herself out of the jeep. The need to get as far away from this place as she could clearly becoming inevitable. Her nightmare then skipped a few seconds later to when Steve's corpse suddenly jumped out of nowhere, dangling from the thick branches overhead with his throat slashed and his coat caked in his own blood. Alice's scream seemed to echo as she watched herself run in the opposite direction. _--

It was as if Alice couldn't wake up, like the nightmare wasn't going to let her go until it was finished, as she gripped the side of her head and gently pulled at her hair, grumbling to herself…

-- _Alice could see herself running. Running down the dirt path, brushing past branches that seem to scratch at her, ripping at her clothes as she made it to the shore. Mrs. Voorhees' voice echoing throughout as she taunted with words like, "KILL HER MOMMY! SHE CAN HIDE! THERE'S NO PLACE TO HIDE! KILL HER! GET HER!"_

_Alice then found herself in the middle of the scuffle she had with Mrs. Voorhees, whacking to the ground before she attempted to stab her with the sharp end of the oar. Next they're rolling over each other until Mrs. Voorhees was straddling over her, hands around her neck trying with all her strength to strangle Alice. The struggle seemed to last a little while longer; with Mrs. Voorhees biting Alice's wrist and banging her head against the sandy shore until Alice managed to fight her off and hurried to the machete that laid a few feet away. Picking it up in both palms Alice rushed at Mrs. Voorhees, who could only watch in sheer terror, as she swung the machete vertically and swiftly decapitated her in an instant. The blood seemed to pour out like a fountain, cascading blood literally everywhere as Alice stared at the headless body with wide eyes…_ --

Alice turned onto her other side again, gripping the bed-sheets with one fist and the pillow with the other as the nightmare was coming to an end…

-- _Finding herself asleep in the canoe, drifting slowly in the middle of Crystal Lake, Alice was aroused by the sound of a man's voice coming from the shoreline. Slowly waking up, Alice looked in the direction of the shouting and saw that it belonged to a police officer, waving at her from the water's edge. She smiled to herself, knowing now that the nightmare was over. Yet Alice knew it wasn't as she watched the decomposed body of Jason jumping out from underneath the water behind her and pulled her down with him. The nightmare then skipped to the scene moments after Alice woke up screaming in a hospital room and was in mid-conversation with the officer who was calling out to her…_

"_Two of my men pulled you out of the lake. We thought you were dead too. Do you remember very much?" He asked, stepping a little closer to the bed._

"_The boy." Alice replied with widen eyes, "Is he dead too?"_

"_Who?" Off. Tierney asked, placing his hand on his broad hips._

"_The boy, Jason." Alice's voice was filled with a little frustration when she saw that Off. Tierney wasn't getting what she was blatantly trying to tell him._

"_Jason?"_

"_In the lake. The one who attacked me. The one who pulled me underneath the water." Her head was shaking as she spoke, determining to get the officer to at least understand what she was talking about._

_Off. Tierney shook his head in disbelief, "Ma'am, we didn't find any boy."_

"…_Then he's still there," Alice heard herself say, echoing so much that she couldn't bear it and… --_

"NNOO!" Alice awoke with a start, clutching the side of her head and feeling her sweat-soaked hair between her fingers. Letting go Alice suddenly realized where she was and let out a great sigh. Then the moment of silence was quickly interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on her bedroom door and she instantly identified it to be her mother, Becci. She had moved in with Alice shortly after they'd been released from the hospital; a method the doctors thought was necessary in helping them to overcome their fears.

"Alice? Are you alright?" Becci asked worryingly as she entered the room, Alice noticing that she was wearing a white, long-sleeved blouse, a tanned pencil skirt to match it as well as a pair of tanned flat shoes, which were no higher than 3 inches. She looked like she was dressed up for a night out.

"Yeah, I'm fine Mom. Just another nightmare, that's all," Alice sighed again, combing her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair and allowing her Mom to sit beside her on the bed.

Becci embraced her daughter, soothingly rubbing her back in small circles, smiling as she heard Alice moaning gratefully, "Oh sweetie. It's going to get better, you'll see. I know it hasn't been easy for the both of us these last two months but I promise you, it will." Becci reassured, giving her an extra squeeze for comfort.

Alice doesn't answer. She just nodded and wrapped her arms around her Mom's slim waist, hugging her back.

After what seemed like hours of just them hugging each other, it was Becci who finally decided to pull away, a small smile on her face, "There. Do you feel a little better, honey?" She asked, with Alice giving her another nod before she pushed herself to her feet, "There was a report on CNN just now about a heavy storm that _might_ be heading this way. They're not sure if it might hit us but we can't be too careful so I'm off to the store to buy us some flashlights."

They could've used candles if they had any and if Becci liked the smell they gave out as they burned. On her way to the door Becci stopped and turned back to see Alice stretching out like a cat along the bed.

"Why don't you make yourself a nice cup of tea. It'll make you feel better," Becci replied, watching as her daughter stood up from the bed and placed her hands firmly on her slight hips, "Mom, that's your remedy for everything," Alice retorted with a huge smile on her face.

"Well, it works doesn't it?" Becci winked. "Okay, so I'm off. I shan't be too long, unless I see some bargains, then they'll be no hope for me. I love you, darling," Becci replied, walking up to her daughter to give her another hug before letting her go.

"I love you too Mom. Just don't forget the flashlights," Alice said the last part louder, just to make sure her Mom wouldn't forget it. Even though Becci was only 40, she sometimes had the mind of an old-age pensioner when it came to remembering things.

"Alright, no need to rub it in, I won't. See you in a bit, hun." And with that said Becci waved goodbye and disappeared out the door, her heels banging against the wooden floorboards as she descended down the stairs. The front door opened and closed a few minutes later.

Standing in the middle of the room Alice could feel her clothes clinging to her skin and decided to take a shower first before making the tea. On her way to the bathroom along the landing Alice stopped and looked up at one of the pictures that was hanging on the wall. It was one of her drawings; a picture of Bill, how Alice had remembered him, with those beautiful eyes and that winning smile. She touched it with her fingers and smiled at the pleasant memories she had of him before _that night_. With her mind back on track Alice continued down the landing and straight into the bathroom.

Stripping off her clothes in no time at all and throwing them into the laundry basket, Alice turned the faucet on as the water cascaded from the showerhead. Once the water was warm enough for her to get in, she stepped inside and closed the shower curtain behind her.

After just a few minutes inside though, the phone began to ring outside in the hallway. Sighing out in frustration Alice spun the faucet back round, turning the shower off, and pulled the curtain back. Climbing out she reached for her pink bathrobe behind the door and quickly slipped it on, tying the fabric belt around her waist. Hurrying out the bathroom before the caller could hang up, she picked up the receiver and placed it against her ear.

"Hello?" There was no answer on the other line.

"Hello? Mom? Is that you?" Still no answer. Alice gripped the receiver a little tighter, getting a little agitated, "Hello? Is someone there? Is this some kind of joke because it's not funny!" She screamed down the phone but still nothing. With a frustrated sigh Alice slammed the phone down on its cradle, thanking God a second later that she didn't break it. Mom would've kill her otherwise.

Deciding that she'd rather have that cup of tea NOW than continue with her shower Alice trundled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Heading straight for the kitchen stove situated parallel to the doorway, Alice reached for the matchbook on the shelf above and took a match out of it. Turning one of the knobs on the stove she then struck the match and immediately placed it under the required burner and it erupted in a small burst of blue flame. Alice instantly turned down to the right temperature before blowing out the match and discarding it. Next picking up the kettle, Alice positioned it under the tap and filled it with cold water before putting on top of the burner.

_What was that?!_ Her mind asked as she heard something clattering from somewhere out back. On the counter beside the stove lay an ice-pick and was now tightly gripped in one of Alice's palms out in front of her. Edging closer to the backdoor Alice would look behind her every so often to make sure no-one was creeping up on her. Reaching out Alice gripped the door-knob and slowly turned it, hearing it click before pulling it open.

There was nothing but darkness that welcomed her. With the ice-pick still clenched in her fist Alice stepped out onto the back porch to get a better view of the garden. Yet she couldn't see nothing but her Mom's flowers which seem to glow despite being surrounded by darkness.

"Come on Alice, get it together," she whispered to herself, followed by a long sigh and as she loosened her grip on the ice-pick. Taking one last look to make sure she wasn't missing anything Alice spun round and headed back inside, closing the door and locking it up tight. Walking up to the counter next to the stove Alice put the ice-pick down and suddenly felt a chill fly up her spine making her small hairs stand on end. Turning around she could see that it was coming from an open window beside the fridge/freezer and hurried to bolt it shut.

Feeling a little at ease Alice swiped the sweat from her brow that had formed and found that the kettle had boiled. As she prepared to pour it her hand accidentally brushed against the stove and burnt her, the sharp, burning sensation immediately shooting up her arm.

"Ah! Christ!" She cursed frustratingly, heading straight for the fridge/freezer to get some ice to cool the burn.

Upon opening it her eyes fix on a decomposing head and screamed out bloody murder when she realized who it belonged to._ Mrs. Voorhees!_ Almost instantaneously she noticed another one placed right next to Mrs. Voorhees' and held a hand over her mouth in shock, trying her best not to vomit but finding it hard not to. _Mom?_ Her Mom's eyes were staring upwards and her mouth was wide open, just like Mrs. Voorhees' was. Alice screamed again at the sight of her dead mother, the blood still dripping from the open abrasion as she backed away from it.

Abruptly her back hit something solid but before she could turn around and face it, two enlarged hands reached out and grabbed her vehemently by the hair and arm. Alice desperately tried to fend off her attacker, struggling hysterically in his grip, but finding it no use at the guy's immense strength.

"NO! NNNOO!" Alice pleaded but the hulking man continued to guide her over to the stove where the kettle was whistling to say that it had boiled. Letting go of her arm but having a firm grip on her hair the intruder moved the kettle to one side and, with the help of his inhuman strength, shoved her face hard against the scorching burner.

"AARRGGHH!" Alice shrieked, the scalding pain was unbearable. She tried to push herself off it with her palms pushing firmly against the front of the stove but to no avail. This guy was just too strong. Her skin started to swelter under the intense heat and she could smell her burnt flesh as he continued to press the side of her face on it. While he had her pinned down and hearing the high-pitched tone of her screaming, the intruder reached out and gripped the ice-pick in his palm. Raising it above his head, he stabbed it down with all his might into the back of Alice's skull, effectively killing her. Her frantic screaming coming to an abrupt end…

**FRIDAY THE 13th**** II**

**A comicbookfan23/Teenaged Angst Production**

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* * *

Authors' Note: **So? What do you all think? Pretty gruesome, huh? Please review because we like to know what you like about our story so far. That's not too much to ask, is it?


	3. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

**Four Years Later**

It was a glorious sunny day. The birds were chirping happily in their nests, the green trees swayed with the cool breeze and there were no clouds in the sky whatsoever.

For Sandra Dier, and her boyfriend Jeff Lawler, who were on their way to a counsellor training centre on the shores of Crystal Lake. With Jeff in the driver's seat Sandra was telling him the way, but by the time they reached a quaint little town, they were both hopelessly lost.

"All right, keep your eyes peeled. I think we're on the right track now," Jeff replied as he continued to drive slowly through the town making sure, he didn't miss any turns he might need to take.

"Hey, there's a gas station." Sandra pointed out, combing her long, curly hair with her fingers as she allowed the wind through the open window to blow through it.

Parking right beside shortly afterwards the couple climb out and meet on Sandra's side. Not too far away walking beside his bicycle, Crazy Ralph was eyeing the two young 'uns suspiciously, knowing exactly what Fate had installed for them.

"Okay, let's call Ted." Sandra nodded as Jeff pointed to a nearby door-less telephone booth situated on a small island in the middle of the road, the two slowly jogging toward it.

Stepping inside Jeff reached into his pocket and fished out a couple of quarters, slipping them into the slot one after the other. Meanwhile Sandra stood outside basking in the Sun, thanking herself mentally for choosing to wear her white sleeveless top, her khaki mini-shorts that Jeff really liked, and her white flip-flops that she bought herself just the other week. Jeff, on the other hand, was wearing his olive green vest, tight navy jeans and

As Jeff cradled the receiver between his cheek and his shoulder, he dialled the number to get Ted and waited for a few moments before he eventually picked up. The two not realizing that, in the distance, Jeff's truck was being towed.

"Hey, Teddy, buddy!" Jeff cheered into the phone, "We just rolled in. Yeah, yeah, Sandra's here." He then took the receiver and held out in front of her, "Hi, Ted!"

Returning it upon his shoulder Jeff asked, "Hey, so you gonna come down and get us or what?" He listened for Ted's answer, "Yeah, okay. Okay, give me the directions." Sandra then dug into her pockets and pulled out a pen and paper.

"Here, wait, wait, wait. All right. Okay, go ahead. I'm ready," Jeff informed, placing the paper against the glass, so he could write the directions down easier, "All right, Old North Road and then look for a Dairy Queen?" He giggled at the last part before listening on, "Okay. And then over…"

He was then abruptly interrupted by Crazy Ralph, who'd moseyed on from where he was standing just moments ago, and stopped just short of the booth. He then leaned forward a little and spoke in his hoarsely voice, probably from his years of drinking, "I told the others. They didn't believe me. You're all doomed. You're all doomed." He repeated before climbing on his bike and headed in the opposite direction from where they came in.

Jeff and Sandra followed him with their stares before looking at each other and thinking the same thing. The guy was obviously nuts and was probably drunk, smelling heavily of booze. Jeff suddenly realized that Ted was still on the phone, "What? Oh, no, nothing. No, go ahead. No. All right. So…All right, covered bridge. Oka. Then what? All right, so, then past an old cemetery. All right. And then…Left down an old dirt road for half a mile."

Jeff was then suddenly interrupted yet again by the cry of Sandra's voice, who looked past him and at his truck, "Oh, my God! They're towing us!" Seconds later Sandra dashed in its direction, her flip-flops smacking the bottom of her feet as she tried faster.

Jeff was still holding the phone and watching Sandra before he replied quickly, "Shit! Ted, I'll call you back," before slamming the phone back onto its cradle and bolting after her.

"Hey, wait! Hey, mister!" Sandra cried out as she ran across the road with Jeff taking off his cap, so he could run even faster. He easily surpassed Sandra in seconds and was at the driver's door, "This is my truck!" The driver didn't seem to be listening, "Come on!" Jeff banged on the door several times, "This is my truck!" He shouted, not really caring that onlookers were eyeing this little scene, "Asshole, this is my truck!"

He growled in frustration as the driver persisted on without stopping and Jeff clenched his fists in anger before taking off after him again. Sandra was trying her best to catch up but at the end of the day, flip-flops were just not made for running.

The truck then turned off the main road and drove down a smaller one, stopping just past a large tree outside a small store. Jeff and Sandra stopped to catch their breath and heard constant laughter coming from beside the tree. Both looking up, skin soaked in perspiration, they could see that it was Ted Campbell, their supposed friend, who was laughing at them. What was clearly noticeable about him was his bright orange and yellow polka-dot shirt he wore along with khaki shorts and white trainers.

"Welcome to God's country." He pronounced with a huge grin on his face and welcoming them with open arms.

The couple quickly realized that they were played for fools and immediately jumped at him, the words, "You rat shit!" coming out of Jeff's mouth as he tackled him onto the grass.

As the two picked themselves up, Ted waved at the guy driving the tow truck, "Thanks, Max! Max owns the gas station. He's crazy too," Ted told them, wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

"I should have known," Sandra laughed, squeezing Ted just that little bit tighter before fully letting go.

"It's great to see you guys. It'll be like old times."

Jeff let out a deep sigh, hands on his hips as he continued to catch his breath, "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

"Help me load my gear and we'll split." Ted asked, slightly afraid at what they might say after what he'd just did just moments ago…

* * *

Back on the road again the trio were on their way to the counsellor training facility driving down a whirly road, passing by countless fields which either had corn, cattle or stacks of hay in them.

"So, Ted, what's the scoop?" Jeff asked from the driver's seat with Sandra sitting in between the two men.

Ted turned from looking out of the wide-open window, the wind blowing through his ginger hair, "I know the guy Paul who's running the course. He's okay. He's kind of macho, though. He takes the whole thing _way_ too seriously. _Senior camp counsellor_, of course." He replied to the last part in a robotic voice, earning a soft laugh from Sandra. "We'll probably all get a Brownie badge if we survive."

Sandra faced him, her eyebrow creasing, "If we survive?"

"That's right. Didn't I tell you you're gonna be a second assistant?" This earned a groan from Jeff as he said, "Oh, no!" followed by gentle laughter from the other two.

"Okay, listen , listen. A bear and a rabbit are in the woods. Both are taking a dump," Ted began his joke, earning a grimace from Sandra, who knew this was going to end dirty. "So the bear looks down at the rabbit and says, "Excuse me, Mr. Rabbit, does shit stick to your fur?" The rabbit says, "No, Mr. Bear." So the bear wiped his ass with the rabbit."

The two men laugh at Ted's little joke and, despite it not being her taste in jokes, Sandra had to laugh with them. It was a pretty good joke, although she felt a little sorry for the rabbit.

"Hey, what the heck is that?" Jeff asked, all their attention in the direction he was looking in.

There, lying across the full length of the road, was a thin-looking tree with several large branches sprouting from it. As Jeff pulled the car to a stop, the tree looked bigger when up close. Climbing out of the truck Jeff, followed by Ted and Sandra, the two men sauntered over to inspect it when Sandra leant up against the front of the truck.

"Where the hell did this sucker come from?" Jeff asked, mostly to himself, taking his hat over and scratching his head in bewilderment.

Ted then stood beside him, "I don't know. Let's move it anyways," he replied simply, standing over by the thick end of it and grabbing hold of it by its side. Jeff took the middle part and helped him manoeuvre it to the side of the road.

Sandra, with her hands cupping her leather "pouch" that hung cosily around her slender waist, observed their surroundings, "This place is spooky," she stated, not really sure if Jeff and Ted heard her or not, earning herself a sharp chill up her spine.

"Looked like someone dragged it out here," Jeff declared to Ted, who replied shortly afterward, "Yeah, but what for?"

While the "men" were busy moving the tree Sandra wandered off into the trees, following a dirt path that led deeper into the forest. What she didn't realize though that, somewhere amongst the thickness of the trees, someone was watching her. Probably, the same someone who blocked the road with the tree. On one side of the path, someone caught her eye as she stepped closer to it, making sure she didn't go anywhere near the stinging nettles.

Picking it up Sandra could see that it was a long piece of wood with writing on it. Looking up she called out, "Hey, you guys, take a look at this." As they came closer Sandra brushed off the foliage and the dirt, so they could read what was written on it. In bold, capital letters it read: "CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE".

Ted pointed at it, "That's Camp Blood. This place is on the same lake as we're gonna be."

The words "Camp Blood" forced the couple to look up at him, the look of wonderment in their eyes as to why it was called that.

"Camp Blood?" Jeff had to be the one to ask, seeing as Sandra was still observing the sign in her hands.

"Hey, isn't that the place where…" Sandra started to say but Ted shook his head and headed back to the truck, "Let's get out of here."

"Can't we take a look?" Sandra asked innocently but she was shunted by a cold, "No way," from Ted, who was already waiting beside the truck.

"What's the problem?" Came the question from Jeff, who was walking back to him while Sandra placed the sign back where she'd found it.

"You don't wanna hear about it, man. _Believe me_. Not before lunch."

Sauntering back to the truck in disappointment Sandra looked back down the dirt path and wondered if it led to Camp Crystal Lake aka _Camp Blood_. Hearing the voice of her boyfriend Sandra shook the thought out of her head and hurried to the truck where Ted was waiting for her to get in.

Turning the ignition the truck roared into life as Jeff pulled it into drive and put his foot down on the accelerator not realizing that, as they drove off back along the road, the certain _someone_ who had watched Sandra was now watching them as they disappeared into the distance…


	4. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Standing on the porch outside a beautiful house next to the lake with a clipboard in hand was Paul Holt, the head counsellor who was teaching this very course. His light brown curtains seemed to shine in the Sun's light. Wearing his favourite blue shirt with red and white stripes, beige jeans and comfy, white trainers, Paul was feeling very good about himself and couldn't wait to get the day started. Standing beside the bell that was fixed to the porch, he gripped the handle and pulled it back and forth, ringing it as loud as he could for everyone's attention. Within a couple of minutes, counsellors from all around started to gather in front of him coming from everywhere. Jeff and Sandra were running up the wooden steps side-by-side that led down to the small dock.

A guy in a wheelchair wearing a white, sleeveless shirt and blue jeans was wheeling himself carefully down a large, stony path. Just as he was passing a cabin a girl with conspicuous curly, brown hair walked out of it and asked him politely, "Do you need some help?"

Not wanting to hurt the girl's feelings, he decided to let her down easy, "No, eh…it's okay. I got it. Thanks, anyhow," and then continued on his way.

The girl placed her hands on her hips and felt a little self-conscious, looking to her left to see Ted passing by, his eyes fixed on the electronic game he held firmly in his hands.

Elsewhere a brunette with her hair tied back into a ponytail, wearing a white-crop top and blue denim shorts which were _incredibly_ short, was jogging down a dirty pathway alongside her faithful dog, Muffin, not noticing that someone was watching her from the seclusion of the flourishing trees. Lifting up a makeshift slingshot the onlooker pulled the rubber band, took aim and fired it, hitting the jogger square on her right ass-cheek. She placed her hand on it in reflex and turned immediately on her heels to see what had struck her. From out of the bushes a guy in a black shirt, a few buttons opened to reveal his toned chest, and pale blue jeans appeared, brandishing the slingshot in one of his hands.

She tilted her head to the side, a small smile forming on her face as though to say, 'Oh you!' as the guy smirked and winked back. Without saying anything the jogger turned back around and started to walk back to the gathering point, the smile on her face growing wider.

As all the counsellors gathered and took their places around the tables a few feet away from the porch, Paul was waiting patiently for all of them to settle down. Ted, his eyes still locked onto the game he was playing, took his place beside him, sitting down on the second-to-last step.

"Okay, let's settle down," Paul started, clearing his throat afterward to get their undivided attention, "It's great to have you all here at our new counsellor training centre. You've all worked as counsellors at one camp or another. Terri, Vicki, Chantelle, you three were upstate last summer, right?"

He pointed at the three brunettes; Terri, who had Muffin on her lap, Vicki, who sported a rather bright red tank-top with dark navy jeans and tried to help the guy in the wheelchair earlier, and Chantelle, whose hair was tied back neatly into a bun and was clad in a pink halter top that tied around her neck, a denim mini-skirt and pink flip-flops that seemed to complete her ensemble. The trio of brunettes nodded back to him while Chantelle waved afterward.

"Scott! Hi! Good to see you here, buddy. You need it." Paul replied, earning a smarmy look from the guy in the black shirt, the others all laughing at Paul's remark.

"And, Mark, I know we worked a season or two together, right?" he asked, the guy in the wheelchair nodding his head and uttering an enthusiastic 'Uh huh'.

"Okay. The rest of you I'm sure I'll get to know soon enough. I'm also sure there's one thing I don't have to tell any of you. Being a counsellor isn't the "gravy" summer job everybody thinks it is…."

* * *

While Paul and the others were back at the centre listening to his introductory speech, on the long and lonesome road that led to it Crazy Ralph was on his way home on his bike. Coming up from behind him, a red Volkswagen beetle with its roof all the way down, spluttered and clunked its way along before passing him. From what he could see of the driver, it was evidently a young woman probably in her early 20's with long, blonde hair that danced along with the wind as she drove. His squinty brown eyes looked in the direction of where she was heading and saw that she had passed the sign that read: "COUNSELLOR TRAINING CENTRE" and disappeared down the only road into the facility. He shook his head, knowing exactly what was in store for her and her friends. For that place had been set up near the now-desolate Camp Crystal Lake, the very same camp where those young counsellors were found brutally murdered 4 years ago…

* * *

"…And what we're gonna do over the next two weeks, if the rest of my staff ever shows up…" taking a second to look in the direction of the road to see if his assistant was coming before turning his gaze back at the others, "…Is going back to the basics. Survival, first-aid, boating, archery, rifle range, all of it."

Just then Paul was interrupted by a sudden clank coming from the Volkswagen beetle that had just pulled in, drawing everyone's attention to it.

"What the hell…" Paul uttered, standing up from his seat on the porch, down the small steps and in the direction of the car, "I'll be right back." He said to Ted, walking fast up the hill to meet the young woman.

The blonde pulled the vehicle into park and looked up to see Paul coming towards her, a wide smile forming quickly on her face, "Hi! I know I'm late." but Paul didn't return it with an answer. He just waved her to follow him as he disappeared past the car.

Knowing that she was in trouble now she climbed over the car door, easy enough for her as she was only wearing a white spaghetti-strapped shirt and a pink broomstick skirt, as she followed Paul into his office, dragging her wedge sandals along with her.

Stopping short of his desk he turned to face her as she sat upon it, her arms crossing over her chest, "So what is this crap Ginny? You're supposed to be my assistant. Everyone else got here hours ago." Paul pointed out, indicating to the group waiting outside with his hand holding the clipboard.

Ginny Field rolled her eyes, keeping them to the floor as she spoke, "I said I was sorry," uncrossing her arms and placing them back onto the table.

"You did?" Paul asked in reassurance, Ginny seeing the very look in those handsome, brown eyes of his.

"I'm sorry. Okay? But my car's sick," she uttered, an arm pointing in its direction.

"You could have called." He answered back.

"Paul, I tried, but your phones aren't even working yet."

"Oh," Paul uttered, remembering at that very moment that he was going to get that fixed after the introductory, "Okay, erm, get your gear stowed and then help me outside, okay?" He had made his way over to the door as he spoke, turning to face her.

Ginny pushed herself off the table, also turning to face him, "Paul, look, the course starts today, right? Well, here I am. And I promise you, I'll never, ever be late again in my entire life." She pledged, squeezing his shoulder a little, earning a dimpled smile from Paul.

"All right, all right, what the hell. You know, Ginny, I was starting to worry about you," he muttered, wrapping a powerful arm around her and hugging her close.

Ginny stood up on her tip-toes and kissed him gently on the lips, smiling again when she moved away, "Bullshit, Paul." And without saying anything else, she left the office with Paul following shortly behind.

Climbing back into her car, Paul swiftly swatted her ass before she could sit down, receiving a smirk from Ginny as she checked her hair in the mirror. Standing back in front of the group Paul called back up to her, pointing in the direction of the car park, "Eh, Ginny! Put your car on the lot, okay? This place is started to look like a Burger King." He said the last part to himself.

Observing his notes Paul did not have a clue where he'd left the speech, "Where was I?" He asked, hoping that at least one of them was listening to him.

"You were about to give us your "Let's keep our shit together" speech." Ted answered, Paul nodding as he recalled where he was, "Right, Ted. Right." He then looked back to all the counsellors, "Okay, look, a few words about safety. Axes, knives, lanterns, saws. They can all be trouble. Their misuse is the main course of camp accidents. Take care of your equipment, and it'll take care of you."

Meanwhile Ginny was still having trouble starting her car, turning the ignition but only making it sputter and die on her.

"Now, a word of caution about our friends in the forest. Among other things, this is bear country. And contrary to what everybody hears, bears are dangerous. That means no food fights. Change often. Food odours cling to clothing. If you're a woman, don't use perfume." He looked at the trio of girls whilst saying that, all of them disappointed at that little known fact, "And, err, keep clean during your menstrual cycle." He said _that_ whilst looking at his notes.

Chantelle nudged Vicki in the arm, looking away with a smile on her face as Vicki blushed lightly, her cheeks coloured in a gentle crimson.

"Having trouble there?" Paul asked, leaning against the car door, the introductory sppech now over, "You gotta treat them real gentle. Just like kids," he pointed out, strolling his way over to the back of the car, "Use a little of that child psychology you're majoring in."

He then knelt down, popping the hood to get to the engine, looking at it carefully and sussing out what could be wrong with it, "Try it," he called to Ginny, as she did as she was told. Turning the ignition the car spluttered into life and coughed out a cloud of black dust from one of its pipes, covering Paul's face with it.

Shutting the cover again and clapping his hands together to get rid of the dust, he coughed as he backed away to let Ginny reverse by. She stopped beside him and smiled cheekily, "It's more fun using that child psychology on you. You're such a sucker for it."

Paul could only watch as she disappeared backward up the stony road to park her car in the lot, coughing and wiping the black dust from his face.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So what do you think? Please gives us your reviews as we absolutely thrive on them!!! (^_^) Stay tuned for more Friday the 13th action and who knows, maybe someone will get killed in the next chapter but you'll just have to wait and see!!! *laughs uncontrollably*


	5. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

It was now evening and all of them were gathered round a small, crackling bonfire, clothed in jumpers and cardigans, and toasting the marshmallows that Terri was passing around. In the middle of the circle, sitting in between Ginny and Vicki, Paul looked around at them, watching them as they laughed and ate their toasted sugary sweets and replied without any notion, "I don't want to scare anyone, but I'm gonna give it to you straight about _Jason_."

As soon as that name passed his lips he had the group's undivided attention. So he continued, "His body was never recovered from the lake after he drowned. If you listen to the old-timers, they'll tell you he's still out there. Some sort of demented creature, surviving in the wilderness. Full-grown by now. Stalking. Stealing what he needs, living off wild animals and vegetation. Some folks claim they've even seen him, right in this area."

Vicki felt a cold shiver crawl slowly up her spine as she looked up at Mark sitting beside her in his wheelchair. A smile forming on his face to perhaps reassure her as Paul persisted on telling his ghost story, "The girl who survived that night at Camp Blood, that _Friday the 13th_, along with her mother. She claims she saw him. They both disappeared two months later. Vanished. Blood was everywhere. No-one knows what happened to them. Legend has it that Jason saw his mother beheaded that night, and he took his revenge on the pair of them. A revenge that he'll continue to seek if anyone enters his wilderness again."

Hearing that Scott instantly glanced at each member of the group, who were all too enthralled in listening to Paul's outlandish ghost story, before turning to look behind him, just to make sure nothing was creeping up on them.

"And by now, I guess you all know, we're the first to return here." Paul paused for a moment, feeling Ginny wrap her arm around his, "Four years. Four long years, he's been dormant. And he's hungry. Jason's out there, watching."

Sandra, sitting between Jeff's legs on the floor while he had taken his seat on the thick log, stared up at him uncomfortably as he hugged her closer. Her hands on top of his as she swallowed a lump that had appeared in her throat.

"Always on the prowl for intruders. Waiting to kill. Waiting to devour. Thirsty for young blood." He could see that he had them all gripped to the edge of their seats with his ghost story about the legend of _Jason Voorhees_.

"UURRAAHH!" Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a figure with a disfigured face garbed in Neanderthal-like clothing and brandishing a large spear, howled into the night like a wild animal.

Everyone in the group, except Paul, bolted in all directions to get away while Mark was left struggling to move in his wheelchair. After a few moments though, Paul got up and walked over to the intruder and took off his mask, revealing it to be only a smirking Ted.

"Hey! Come back! Come back!" Paul called, seeing all their frightened faces turn quickly into smiling ones as they all realized that they had just been dooped, "Oh man! Ted!" They seemed to laugh out in unison.

As they all gathered around again, laughing and playfully slapping Ted for playing the joke, Paul called out to them again, "Okay, look, now that we've got that out of our system, I don't want to hear anymore about it, okay?" He then passed the mask back to Ted before adding, "It's ancient history. Jason drowned, Mrs. Voorhees was killed, and Camp Crystal Lake is off-limits. Understand?"

With her hands firmly in her coat pockets Ginny started to walk away from the group, saying her goodnights before she was followed by Paul, who had his arm draped around her shoulders, "I certainly got you, huh? What do you think?"

Ginny could see that he had a smirk on his face and thought he was pretty high on himself, "The second act needs work," she answered, smiling at him falsely as she made her way back to the main lodge.

* * *

Inside Ted was dressed back into his normal clothes and had hung the mask on top of the spear, which was leant up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Taking his game out from his back pocket, he sauntered his way over to the sofa and took a seat. As the game started, Ted took in his surroundings. Sandra and Jeff were strolling downstairs and, once they'd reached the bottom, Sandr a snatched Jeff's hat right off his head and ran in the other direction, her boyfriend soon chasing after her.

At a small table next to one of the windows, Mark was arm-wrestling with another counsellor while Vicki and Chantelle observed. A small smile grew on Vicki's face as Mark pinned the other guy's arm down in mere few seconds and happen to notice his bulging bicep as it flexed. She suddenly blushed. A slight crimson colouring her soft cheeks when she spotted him noticing her looking at them.

Beside them, leaning against the small radiator Scott was ruffling up his polo-shirt collar and eyeing Terri, who was sprawled across a soft, yellow sofa which faced Ted and had Muffin sitting at her feet. With his hands in his pockets Scott wandered over to her, leaning over the back of the sofa a bit to make sure he had her attention, "Hi, Terri. Do you wanna dance?"

Terri looked up from her magazine and gave him her most sincere smile and replied softly, "No, thank you."

Scott focused his attention onto Muffin, hands on the back of the sofa as he leaned in closer to talk to it, "Hi there. How about you? Do you wanna dance?"

* * *

While this was all going on, there was someone prowling outside in the darkness, watching these people socialize through the windows before their certain attention was on Ginny, who was playing a game of chess with Paul.

* * *

"So there I was, sitting in this fast-food joint, thinking to myself, "Scott, old boy, what are you gonna do with the rest of your life?" Scott spoke to Muffin as he danced slowly around the room with her in his arms, Terri having to smile at how foolish he looked. Passing a window Muffin could sense the prowler lurking outside and began to whimper restlessly.

"I'm striking out all over the place," Scott uttered, pulling her back so he could look at her tiny scrunched-up face.

Back in the lounge Paul was laid out on the floor and was making his move, "Well, I think I've got you. Check." He announced moving his white King into said position, taking Ginny's black Bishop.

However, Ginny seemed to have the upper hand, "Wrong, white man," she beamed, moving her Queen to take his King and ending the game in checkmate. Paul's eyebrows creased into confusion, wondering how the hell he didn't see that coming.

Satisfied with herself Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and observed the room, "Well, what next? I could get my arm broken by Mark, my brains "Ponged" by our electronical wizard…or bed," she yawned the last part, standing and picking up her coat from off the sofa.

"Goodnight Paul. See you in the morning," she replied, ruffling his curtains on her way to the front door.

* * *

From outside the prowler was peering in through one of the windows, catching her saying goodnight to Sandra and Jeff, the couple who was dancing slowly to the soft music, before walking out of the door. Stepping down the small stairs on the side of the porch Ginny glanced up at the night sky while she slipped on her coat. Taking out her torch she switched it on and proceeded in walking up to her cabin, using its light for guidance.

* * *

Back inside Sandra and Jeff were now dancing in each other's arms, swaying even slower to the gentle music, "Jeff, I just gotta see that place." She spoke against his shoulder.

"What place babe?"

"That camp. _'Camp Blood'."_

Jeff pulled her away just enough so he could look at her face-to-face, "You're crazy, you know that?" A mischievous smile appeared on his face, remembering why he'd fallen madly in love with her in the first place.

"I've just got to. Maybe there is something to that legend, oh come on, I'm serious," she moaned, her arms securely around his neck.

"I'm sorry babe but no way. You're not getting me out there. And besides, Paul said it was off-limits."

Sandra pulled him down to her level, pressing her tender lips against his, the kiss filled with ardour and lasting for quite a while before they pulled apart, "We'll see." Sandra winked, resting her head on his shoulder as they resumed their slow dancing.

* * *

Having reached the cabin safe and sound Ginny switched off the flashlight and slipped it into one of her coat pockets before opening the storm door to push through the other. Ambling inside she reached for the light, flicking it on, before looking back through the glass door to make sure no-one was taking a peek at her.

Satisfied that no-one was going to be out there, freezing their asses off just to take a peek at her, Ginny spun around and stood in front of the dressing table, pulling off her coat and top underneath to reveal a silky white bra underneath. Shortly after her trousers followed, showing off her silky panties that matched her bra.

Looking at herself in the large mirror that was fixed on top of the dressing table, she raised a hand and placed it on her stomach, rubbing it gently in small circles. Smiling at what she had found out earlier that day, Ginny quickly turned her attention to her hair, flicking it about the place until it looked reasonably better. Happy she reached over to grab her dressing gown that laid on the bed and wrapped it around her scantily clad body, tying the belt into a loose knot.

* * *

Outside someone stopped outside the cabin, their silhouette painted on the wall before moving away out of site.

* * *

Back inside Ginny was in the kitchen area of the cabin, washing her face when a knock at the door disrupted her. _Oh, who could that be? _She asked herself as she dried her face on a tea-towel and made her way to the door. Opening it, she stepped out hugging herself immediately as a gush of cold wind danced around her legs and up her gown before carrying on.

"Hello?" She looked left, then right, then left again, "Who's there?" Looking around once more, she could see evidently that there was no-one out there. Was someone playing a trick on her? Was she hearing things? Shaking away those thoughts Ginny backed herself into the cabin, letting the door close behind as she wandered back to the kitchen when suddenly a large hand was around her mouth.

She squealed in the intruder's hand but when she spun round to face them, she quickly found out that it belonged to Paul, "Paul, God damn it! What do you think you're…" she started but was quickly interrupted by Paul's shushing, "Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. You'll wake the natives."

Stepping a little closer to her so they could both feel their hot breaths against their faces, Paul unfastened the belt round Ginny's waist and opened it out, smiling at the undies she was wearing underneath the gown.

"You know, I'm not supposed to be fraternizing with the staff," he said this as he wrapped his arms round her waist. Ginny couldn't help but smile as his lips touched hers in a passionate kiss and she automatically wrapped her arms round his neck to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back Ginny beamed up at him, "I won't tell," before they were both kissing again, Paul lifting her up and earning a muffled laugh from his girlfriend.

Outside a pair of black shoes made their way slowly along the grass. Careful not to make any sudden movement or noise that would expose their position.

"I missed you, Ginny." Paul murmured once they broke apart for breath. "And I really was worried when you didn't show on time."

Ginny doesn't answer. She just tip-toed to reach his level and proceeding on kissing him, which he happily obliged.

The pair of black shoes belonged to the eccentric Crazy Ralph, who was watching the couple from behind a tree, his intentions not clearly evident.

Stopping once again Ginny pulled back and took a breath, "Paul, there's something I think I should tell you."

Her boyfriend doesn't speak though. He just shook his head and leaned forward to capture her lips with his own, and she could only follow as he embraced her in his strong arms.

Crazy Ralph continued to watch their embracing from the safety of the tree when he heard something like a branch cracking somewhere from behind. He turned abruptly to his left, nothing. Then to his right, still nothing. He took two steps forward, taking another look around, but couldn't see anything but the surrounding trees. Yet, when he turned back to ogle at the kissing couple, a length of barbed wire flew over his head and was pulled back tightly around his neck. The sharp points of the wire dug deep into his neck as blood began to trickle down his neck and onto his clothes. Ralph was gasping for breath, flaying his arms about and choking on his own blood, as the attacker persisted in the garrotting, even lifting him off the ground and pulling even tighter. Ralph's eyes were soon turning red, the oxygen not reaching his brain, as the barbed wire shredded through his neck like a hot knife through butter. In some futile attempt to get the couple's attention Ralph reached out toward the window, but he was too far for them to notice, and he couldn't even scream. However, he soon succumbed to death from the choking and severe blood loss, now lifeless in the attacker's grip, before he was thrown to the ground with a heavy thud.

The killer took one look at the couple, tilting his head gently to the side as he watched them canoodling with each other in the safety of their cabin. Subsequently, he bent down to grab the end of the wire and used his immense strength to drag Ralph's corpse along the ground, his blood trailing behind him as he made his way into the shadows of the forest…


	6. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

It was morning already as the Sun shone its brilliance through the windows, brightening the room somewhat and making everything in the room seem to stand out. Ginny, who was still sleeping in the double bed, moaned as she reached out to cuddle her other half but found nothing but cold sheets. Lifting her head Ginny slowly opened her eyes, adjusting them to the sudden brightness of the room and could see, once her vision was correct, that she was the only one in the room.

_Oh Paul. You always were the early bird_, she said to herself, sitting herself up on the bed and giving out a great yawn as well as a cat-like stretch. Looking in front of her she could see that on the dressing table mirror, words were written in bold, red lipstick: "BEWARE OF BEARS" and immediately knew that Paul had written it before he left.

Smiling at the message Ginny couldn't help but collapse back onto the bed, still not wanting to get up and start the day…

* * *

Later that morning Ginny and the others, all garbed in all sorts of tops and shorts, were all jogging down a large, dirt road that led deeper into the forest that surrounded the counsellor facility. With Ginny in the lead, a whistle dangling around her neck, as the others jogged shortly behind her. Mark and Paul were observing them from the sidelines as they jogged past.

"Come on! Come on!" Mark shouted, clapping his hands together, "What the matter, guys?" He then saw Jeff lagging behind and pointed his arm in the direction of the others, "Jeff, the women are showing you up! What's the matter with you?"

Jeff slowly down and jogging on the spot, turned to Mark and showed him "the finger" before catching up with Sandra and Ted.

"Hey!" Mark exclaimed, his arms out beside him to say, _"That's not very nice"_. All Paul could do was laugh and smile at the exchange before helping Mark onto the road and following shortly behind the joggers.

* * *

Elsewhere, with the Sun still shining brightly through the tops of the trees, someone was walking quietly through the trees when the sound of distant voices caught their attention. Turning abruptly to their right they trudge over bushes and push away branches in their attempt to get closer to the voices.

* * *

"-- We've got about a half a mile, then we're gonna have lunch," Paul replied as he led them through an almost invisible path through the forest, with the rest following him in single file. "Try to stay on this trail, because there's a lot of poison ivy along here."

"How far are we from camp?" One of the guys asked while one of the girls turned and said, "Hey, you guys, don't trip on that," pointing to some overgrowth that she'd nearly tripped over herself.

* * *

From where the onlooker was standing, hidden in the safety of the flourishing trees, they could see the counsellors walking in single file and engaging in idle chit-chat.

"Paul. What are we gonna have for lunch?" They heard one of the girls ask while the guy behind her answered, "Ted's probably going to cook."

They heard them all erupt into laughter at the thought of Ted cooking before they were quietened down by the calling of Paul's voice, "All right, after lunch, we're gonna do some more running."

* * *

At the back of the line, following Scott and Terri, Ginny had a sudden feeling that they were being watched and stopped to look behind her. Did this feeling come from Paul's ghost story last night about the legend of Jason? _No_, she shook the thought away and hurried to catch up with the others once she was satisfied that no-one was watching them. Little did she know that someone was and will soon be taking them all out for trespassing on their territory…

Muffin, Terri's dog, had managed to wander off away from the group and seemed to be following a certain scent. It stopped in its tracks when it came to a pair of feet belonging to a noticeably tall figure and whimpered, probably knew that what was to come wasn't going to be pretty from the figure's scent…

* * *

As Ted was tending to the sausages, nicely sizzling on the barbeque, Ginny was chopping up some wood for the fire with the use of a small chainsaw. After cutting up a large enough piece of a small tree, she switched it off, holding it safely in one hand whilst picking up the neatly-cut wood in the other.

"Here you go Ted," Ginny replied as she passed him the wood which he answered with a smile, "Why, thank you, dear." She then headed off to put the chainsaw back in her and Paul's cabin.

While the others were busy grabbing their plates and cutlery and waiting for their food to be ready Terri settled on looking for her dog, which had wandered off somewhere. Climbing up a small hill to one of the cabins Terri stopped and called out, "Muffin? Here, girl. Muffin!" Nothing. Not even a small bark. "Muffin! Come on, here girl!"

Then she heard Paul's voice calling her, "Terri! Food's ready!"

"Okay, I'm coming!" She replied, turning around and heading back down the hill to eat with the others.

Ginny entered the cabin through the storm door, closing it behind her and walking straight for the large cupboard in the spare-room where they kept other things as well. Lifting it onto the shelf Ginny thought she heard something from outside the window and immediately looked in its direction. Nothing. Must be in her head. She thought nothing of it and left as quickly as she came in.

* * *

After lunch Paul thought it best if they all had some "downtime" so they all suggested they'd cool off in the lake. So, with the guys in their swimming trunks or shorts and the girls in one-piece bathing suits or bikinis, they all set off to cool down.

Jeff was already about to bolt it down the small hill to join them when Sandra, garbed in a bikini top, small shorts and flip-flops, halted him, "Jeff."

"What?" He asked, really wanting to cool his hot skin in the fresh water but seeing that look in Sandra's eyes knew he wouldn't be able to.

"You ready?"

"For what?"

"Camp Blood."

Jeff grunted at the sound of her voice as she uttered those confounded words, "I thought we weren't supposed to go near that place."

However Sandra wasn't going to go down easy, not without a fight it seemed, "Oh come on, it's only a short walk. They'll never know we're gone. Jeff, I'm serious. I really want to see it."

Jeff tried to avert his attention by looking in the direction of the others frolicking in the lake but Sandra blocked his view, "Look, when we get back to the city, we can tell everyone we were there."

Still Jeff wasn't going to budge so she grabbed his wrist tightly and expressed tensely, "Oh, come on, you chicken shit," and pulled him along. In the background Vicki was sitting next to Mark chatting away on the shore while Terri, Chantelle and Scott were splashing about in the water.

Beside the lake Jeff followed Sandra down a dirt path, both looking behind to make sure that no-one was looking in their direction and, once the coast was clear, they disappeared into the forest, Sandra muttering happily, "Alright let's go."

Whilst Sandra and Jeff were trekking through the woods on their way to Camp Crystal Lake, some of the counsellors were on the raft diving off it while others were busy splashing each other or swimming. On the shore Ginny, in a yellow bikini, was leant up against the side of the 'Lifeguard's Chair' enjoying the warmth of the Sun with Vicki while Mark sat in his wheelchair in front of it and Ted on top.

"Okay, you guys, I got one. Ready?" Ginny asked with her eyes closed, "What's green and red and moves 100 miles an hour?"

Vicki looked away from her view of Mark's toned body when he wasn't looking and stared up at her, "What?"

"A frog in a blender."

Mark scrunched his face up, thinking of what that might look like, while Vicki uttered a fake laugh, "Ha-ha. That wasn't funny."

From the top of the chair Ted jumped down and, like Ginny, leant up against it, "Okay, what's brown and sits on a piano?"

Vicki shielded her eyes from the Sun with her hand in order to see Ted and replied, "Your face."

"Beethoven's last movement." Ted answered swiftly, earning laughs from both Ginny and Mark while Vicki creased her face in disgust, "Eww, that's gross Ted," trying to kick his feet with her sandal but he quickly moved out of the way.


	7. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

While the others were too busy enjoying themselves at the lake to even notice that Sandra and Jeff had snuck off, the couple was halfway to Camp Crystal Lake, walking pass mindless trees that seemed to appear out of nowhere. _I can't believe I'm doing this all so that Sandra can boast about it when we get back home_, Jeff thought as he grabbed for her ass, but she swatted his hands away, giggling.

Just as they passed an old oak tree, with a trunk that must've been about 15ft wide, someone stepped out from behind it and watched the two as they carried on walking. Oblivious to their presence. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

As they approached a barbed wire fence that stretched out for what seemed like miles both ways, the couple could see a small sign clipped to the barbed wire that read in bold letters: "**NO TRESPASSING**".

"This must be it," Jeff shrugged his shoulders as Sandra answered with a simple, "Yeah."

Holding the fence down with his foot Jeff helped Sandra climb over it before climbing over himself. Continuing to trek up the small mound, they still hadn't grasp the fact that someone was watching them from behind three small trees that had clumped together. Watching their backs as they disappeared further through the trees before following them slowing behind, their black boots crunching the ground beneath them. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

Carefully trudging down another small hill Sandra walked a few steps forward before having to step back, nearly treading on what appeared to be an animal corpse. (CH CH CH AH AH AH) She placed a hand over her mouth to stop from vomiting as she turned around from the horrid sight, "Oh, my fucking God!" She exclaimed as Jeff went nearer for a closer inspection.

"What is it?" He asked, noticing quickly that what looked like an animal seemed to have been gutted through the middle, blood and entrails was scattered around its corpse.

"It…it looks like a dog," Sandra replied through her heaving, taking deep breaths to ensure that she wasn't going to throw up then and there.

"It's too mangled up to tell." Jeff informed, bending over and leaning his palms against his knees.

With her hand still over her mouth and nose, so as not to breathe in the scent of death that was hanging in the air, Sandra asked loud enough for Jeff to understand her, "What do you think did it?"

"A bear, I guess. The only obvious explanation," he answered before a hand reached out to his shoulder and pulled him around to face its owner.

Sandra gasped. They belonged to a police officer who was obviously in good shape, had brown hair that was long enough to spike up with hair-gel, noticeable dark facial stubble, and looked to be in his early 40s yet he looked relatively younger. He was obviously patrolling the area, "What are you kids doing way out here?"

Jeff slowly looked back at Sandra, knowing full well that they were now in serious shit, as she looked in the other direction, smirking a little at the fact that it was entirely her fault.

* * *

Back at the training facility, in Paul's office, the young-looking officer was busy giving Paul a good telling off, "You're gonna have to keep your people away from that place, Holt. It's condemned."

Paul looked up from under his baseball cap and didn't answer, preferring to listen to what the officer had to say before he'd add anything.

"Next time I catch anybody there, I'm gonna have to run them in." He asserted, his hands gripping firmly on his belt.

"He told us…" Jeff started to explain himself but Paul waved him to set down, "I'll handle this, Jeff."

The officer turned back to look at Paul again, a stern look on his well-defined features, "I might just get a warrant against you."

"Oh, really?" Paul asked, sitting up straight in his chair and giving him his full attention.

Just at that moment Ginny walked in, holding a clipboard close to her chest, eyeing the young couple who were sitting on the sofa in front of the window and who were obviously in serious trouble by the looks of the police officer standing in front of Paul's desk with a frustrated look on his face.

"Look, Holt," the officer began, leaning on his palms against the front of the desk, "People say what you're doing with these 'kids' is great. You've got a good reputation. However if I was you, I'd have located into the next county. You're too close. Things have been quiet for four years and that's the way we want to keep it."

"So do I, Deputy Winslow. So do I." Paul answered almost immediately, wanting the deputy to know that he fully understood what he was getting at.

His focus now on Jeff and Sandra, he pointed them in the direction of the door, "Okay, you two, take off, and I'll talk to you at dinner tonight."

"We'll never do it again, Paul." Sandra said immediately, pushing herself off the sofa, followed shortly by Jeff, "Yeah, thanks Paul." And then they disappeared out the door.

Dep. Winslow stared at Paul in utter confusion, "You're not even gonna reprimand them? No punishment? What kind of place is this?"

As soon as he said that Paul spun in his seat to look at Ginny, who was too busy admiring her clipboard than taking any notice of the conversation, "Ginny?"

"Yes, Paul?" She looked up, a little surprised at suddenly hearing Paul's voice.

"No seconds on dessert for Jeff and Sandra tonight." He announced, watching as Ginny could only nod as she smiled behind the officer's back who didn't think it was at all funny.

* * *

On their way down the hill to the lake, Sandra and Jeff were walking hand-in-hand, her hair bouncing with every stride. Noticing her sudden quietness Jeff gazed at her and asked sympathetically, "Are you okay, babe?"

Sandra could only smile at his concern before asking a moment later, "Should we tell Terri? You know, about what we saw back there?"

Jeff shook his head, "No way. As far as I'm concerned, we didn't see a thing." He then let go of her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him in a warm embrace. He kissed her softly on the cheek, and once they got to the shore, they let go of each other and watched the calming of the lake. Afterward Jeff picked up a flat stone and skimmed it across the water, the two watching it as it glided a far distance across the surface before sinking into the depths of the lake.


	8. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

After making sure that Paul Holt understood what he said about anyone trespassing on Camp Crystal Lake grounds, Dep. Winslow climbed into his car and drove off out of the facility, back to his patrolling of the area.

Unexpectedly a large figure, who looked like they were wearing something over their head to conceal their identity, ran across the road and into the woods that were near to the desolate 'Camp Crystal Lake'. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

Winslow suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled the handbrake up, securing his police car to the spot in the middle of the road. Climbing out but not yet running after the individual Winslow chose to shout after them, "Hey! Hey you! Stop right there!"

The figure had no intentions of stopping, running deeper into the forest, giving Winslow no choice but to leave his patrol car and chase after them.

Winslow ran past countless trees, pushing away their connecting branches, jumping over small trenches, making sure not to lose his footing, and treading into muddy puddles, cursing that these were his best boots. Even though Winslow was the fastest runner on the Crystal Lake Police Force, he couldn't seem to catch up with the trespasser.

A way ahead of him the mysterious figure was also in good shape and had made it out of the woods, finding themselves at the outskirts of the isolated camp of Crystal Lake. Hearing the officer's shouts of stopping behind them, they hurried into the encampment, coming up to a small wooded building that used to be the counsellors' cabin way back when and disappeared inside. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

At long last, Winslow left the forest and found himself staring at the deserted Camp Crystal Lake. _Camp Crystal Lake? What the hell is this guy doing in a place like this? _He seemed to ask himself as he moved slowly towards the nearest building, both hands gripping his gun, which was down by his side.

Coming up to the first building, if he remembered correctly, this was the main cabin the counsellors used for cooking and relaxation. Winslow instantly hugged the wall, gun by his side, heart pounding like there was no tomorrow. Wondering whether the trespasser was inside, hiding, ready to jump out at him with a concealed weapon, but he had to take that chance.

Taking a breather Winslow raised his gun in the air with his left hand while reaching out for the doorknob with his right. In one swift movement, he opened the door and rushed into the cabin, gun out in front, aiming in the possible places they could be hiding.

Nothing. The place was just as derelict as everything else in this camp. All the furniture in the cabin was sodden with dampness and covered in cobwebs. Several of the windows were either empty of glass or smashed to pieces. Through most of them Winslow could see the Sun beginning to set behind the trees, colouring the sky around it in light pinks, purples and oranges.

Underneath his feet, the floorboards creaked with every step he took and he was worried that he might fall through them if he wasn't careful. Heading into the kitchen the wind blew through the empty windows, a cool chill crawling up his spine that made him flinch at every turn.

As soon as he was satisfied that no-one was in there Winslow started to double back, but before he could reach the door, the rotten floorboards underneath suddenly gave way and he suddenly found himself falling through the very floor…

When he awoke his vision was blurry and all he could see was a dim light, as though it was a long distance away. As he struggled to get to his feet, his legs felt like jell-o and thanking God they weren't broken. As his vision got better he realized that the light was in fact a lantern and when he looked further down the tunnel he found himself in, there were other lanterns evenly placed along both sides of the walls to light the way.

_Did he light these? Does he live down here? _Winslow kept asking himself allsorts of questions as he followed the lights to a wooden door. Not really wanting to go back and try to climb out the way he came in, Winslow had no other choice but to take the door.

Seeing as the door had no handles Winslow lifted a hand and carefully placed it on the dusty boards, using just a little of his might to push it slowly open. It creaked awfully and told himself that it could've woken the dead. Stepping inside Winslow couldn't help but gag on the smell that erupted from the room once he stepped inside. With a hand over his mouth and nose, he tried to assess what was inside but the smell was truly awful. Opposite him against the wall was a small, round table, and on top of it was a decomposing head of what might have been a woman. Scattered around the table were other bodies, one of whom looked in the same state as the head while another Winslow could see was the bloodied corpse of Crazy Ralph…obviously been recently killed by the state of his body.

"Oh, my dear God!" Winslow gasped as the sight and the smell was too much, backing off to get away from it. His back suddenly hit something, like somebody's chest, and when he turned to see who it was, he was facing the exact figure he was chasing earlier. He could tell it was a man, by his tremendous height and build, but couldn't see what he looked like because he had a pillow case wrapped tightly round his head with thin rope and with only one eyehole to see through.

"What the fuck?" The deputy exclaimed, raising his gun but the figure was too quick for him and swung the hammer he was holding in his hand forcefully into the side of Winslow's head, hearing a god-awful crack and a spray of blood gush from the wound. Winslow staggered backward, falling onto his back as the attack made his head feel incredibly light-headed.

The attacker didn't stop either. He trudged forward, his footsteps sounding like thunder, as he lifted the hammer and kept on bashing Winslow on different parts of his face, eventually leaving him in a bloody stupor. As he laid there, struggling to breathe and trying to crawl away from him, the figure wasn't yet satisfied and grabbed him hard by his hair.

Pulling him up Winslow let out a war-cry as loud as he could, hoping against hope that someone would hear his cry but surrounded by death, he knew that he was the only one there. The figure, with incredible velocity, then stabbed the hammer-claw viciously up through Winslow's neck and into the bottom of his jaw. The poor deputy couldn't do anything but gurgled as his blood filled his mouth, either dripping out of it or down his throat, also choking him. To put more emphasis on the attack the figure twisted the hammer, Winslow's jaw letting out a horrendous crack, before they pulled it back out and rammed it hard into the top of his head, killing him instantly.

Releasing it the figure allowed the now dead deputy to collapse onto the floor, along with the other corpses with the hammer still embedded in his skull.

Fulfilled, the figure turned on the spot and left the room, closing the door behind them and venturing into the night. The 'others' they needed to take care of on the top of their mind…


	9. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

It was early in the evening, around about half seven, and everyone was gathered on the front porch, either standing or sitting at the tables. In front of them all was Paul, dressed in a red shirt with a dark green polo-neck t-shirt underneath along with dark navy blue jeans and brown Blüchers. Ginny wasn't by his side at that moment because she was getting changed back at their cabin for Paul was about to announce to everyone that if they wished to go out for the night on the town, they should say so.

"Okay, people. Today was fun and games, right?" He was answered with a bunch of "Yeah, yeah" and "Oh sure" as he continued, "I like to start you out slow, ease you in. Tomorrow, we'll get serious. Anybody who wants a last night on the town, now's you chance."

At that mere mention of going out, half of the counsellors had their hands raised up high, including Ted and Chantelle.

"Okay, who else? We only have two cars." He asked before seeing Sandra and Jeff raising their hands, "Oh and by the way, our wanderers have volunteered to stay and watch the camp. Isn't that nice of them?"

Sandra moaned and rested her head on the palm of one of her hands, sulking now that she wouldn't be able to have a little fun before the work really started tomorrow. Jeff let out a disappointed huff before returning to the food. Terri, who was sitting next to Sandra, turned on the bench to face them and replied, "I think I'll stay too. Muffin may show up."

Scott, who'd taken his seat next to Jeff and opposite Terri, stretched his arms up in the air, hearing a slight click in one arm, smirking in Terri's direction, "You know, I'm pretty tired. I think I'll stick around too."

"Well, I'm gonna go change, you guys. Are you sure you won't be coming, Vicki?" Chantelle asked, climbing out of her chair between her best friend and Mark, "We gonna have so much fun, I'm sure you won't be able to remember it in the morning."

Vicki, who had her eyes on Mark, who in turn had his eyes facing forward, looked at her best friend and eased her down gently, "Eh, no thanks Chantelle. I have something else in mind. You go and have fun, you deserve it."

Chantelle, who followed her gaze to the young, strapping man in the wheelchair, winked at Vicki, "Oh…well, I shall leave you to it. See you later Mark." And then she was gone, back to the cabin to change into something more comfortable and ostentatious to perhaps stir a man or two to her side.

"Yeah, see you Chantelle."

"Hey Mark, are you staying?" Vicki asked enthusiastically, hoping that she didn't sound too excited for him to catch on. He didn't.

"Yeah," he answered apathetically, "Nothing spoils a party faster than a drunk in a wheelchair."

"That's bullcrap!" Vicki exclaimed a little too loudly, "Err, if you want we can go together if you want. I know I said I wouldn't go but I will if you want to?"

She could see that Mark appreciated what she was offering but sadly declined, "I appreciate that Vicki, but I'm in…training."

"Then I'm staying too."

"Suit yourself."

At that moment Ginny returned from getting changed and certainly turned a few heads as she walked past them. Paul, who had noticed her a few seconds earlier, could see why they were all staring. She was clothed in a white tube-top that hung nicely around her chest and waist, showing off her slender mid-riff, tight blue jeans that showed off her nice legs and high-heeled boots that tapped loudly against the floorboards of the porch as she met up with Paul.

"Trying to make me feel jealous, huh Ginny?" Paul asked, wrapping his big arms around her waist, embracing her, before lightly touching her lips with his.

"Hmm," Ginny moaned in their kiss, "Who said anything about me making you jealous? You just can't admit that you're just a little _domineering_." She beamed him a perfect smile before tip-toeing to kiss him chastely on the lips.

"So, are you ready to go?"

"Are you buying?" She asked, pulling away from their embrace.

"Sure."

"Then you've got a deal." And with that, Paul took her hand into his and both walked out of the porch, up the small hill to Ginny's car.

Behind them Ted was leaning against the table Jeff and Sandra was occupying and clicked his fingers, "Got the keys, man?"

Paul and Ginny were leading the troupe in the Volkswagen beetle while Ted, Chantelle and the others were following shortly behind in Jeff's truck screaming to those left behind, "Take it easy! Have fun! I'll have a Jack for you!"

"See you later!" Mark called out from his wheelchair, with Terri and Vicki waving them off beside him, as Jeff came up behind them and shouted, "Bring back my truck in one piece!"

Once they were out of sight Terri stepped down the small steps and started down the small path that led to the shore, calling to the others without turning round, "I'm going for a walk."

"We'll wait up for you, all right?" Vicki called back, following Mark, Sandra and Jeff back into the house while Terri's footsteps disappeared into the night. A few seconds later, the porch-lights were turned off and left the front enveloped in darkness with only the full moon's luminosity for light.

Out of the blue, a dark shadow of what appeared to be a rather tall person, walked gradually in the direction of where Terri took off on her little 'walk', the ground underneath them crunching beneath their feet. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

It felt to Terri like she'd been walking for miles and hours but really, it was probably only half an hour, and she found herself treading back toward the shores of Crystal Lake. To Terri, it was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen in the nineteen years of her life. The dark water was still, not a movement could be seen. The Moon shone brilliantly overhead, cascading the area in a warm, white light and dancing along the surface of the water along with the glittering stars doting the night sky. However, what was missing from this idyllic scene was a boyfriend, someone to hold her in their arms and tell her how much they loved her, lightly kissing her neck before turning her around and locking her in a passionate kiss that would sweep her off her feet…

_God I need to get out more!_ Terri thought to herself as she continued to stand beside the water and stare at its unique tranquility. She thought she heard something moving behind her, turning herself round to look behind her but seeing nothing amongst the trees. She stared back at the water again until she heard the noise again, twisting her body round to look behind her again, "Muffin?"

Meanwhile, Paul, Ginny and the others had reached their destination, a quaint little bar about five miles from the training facility with music blasting from inside. The two vehicles managed to find some parking spaces before the troupe climbed out, the people in the truck shouting out loud, "Here we are! Alright! Everyone, get out for some beers!" Subsequently, they all erupted in cheers and laughter as they all raced, except Paul and Ginny, into the bar.

Back at the facility Terri was still eyeing the beauty that was Crystal Lake at night before looking behind her one last time, seeing nothing but trees and darkness. Pretty sure of herself that no-one was watching her Terri grabbed a hold of her pink, long-sleeved crop-top and pulled it over her head, flinging it to the side, not really caring where it landed. The cool breeze whipped around her nipples, and they hardened fast as she bent over to pull off her trainers before untying the string that was holding up her sweat-pants. Now completely naked she hugged herself as she slowly waded through the shallow water until it was deep enough for her to swim out. The cool water refreshing against her hot skin.

Inside the lodge Mark and Jeff were busy arm-wrestling at the same table Mark had used several hours beforehand. At the side of them Vicki was cheering on for Mark while Sandra watched unenthusiastically from her seat on the stairs, a evident bored look on her face.

"Come on, Mark. Come on. You can do it," Vicki cheered, watching the two men trying desperately to pin the other's arm down, both their biceps pumped to the max. But just as Mark was about to pin Jeff, the slim blond used his other arm as well to win the game.

"Hey! Cheater!" Vicki spat at Jeff who was raising his arms up in the air to celebrate the win before shaking it off with a smile and putting his it back down for another round, "Okay, okay, okay. Two out of three."

At that time after Jeff and Mark had locked hands to start the match again, Sandra had gotten off her seat on the stairs and walked gracefully over to the trio before sprawling herself on the table between Jeff and Vicki, a smirk evident on her face, "Hey Jeff, don't wear yourself out. You wanna wrestle, come with me."

With a proposition like that, how could Jeff refuse?

"Later, scooter. 'Night Vicki," Jeff smiled as he allowed Sandra to take his hand and pull him along, disappearing up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms, their footsteps shuffling along the floorboards.

Now that they were alone Vicki turned her gaze back to Mark after watching the doting couple disappear and grinned at him, "Wanna take me on?"

"Sure. Have a seat." He gestured to the chair Jeff had been sitting in just a few seconds ago. Jumping out of her seat and onto the one opposite Mark, Vicki crossed one leg over the other and shook her head when she saw him resting his arm on the table, ready for their upcoming match, "I only want your fingers." She said with a smile, his face furrowing in confusion.

"What?"

In an instant Vicki turned on the chair and picked up two electronic games from the sofa, placing them in front of Mark on the table, "Take your pick. They're Ted's. It's okay with him."

Taking the two games into each hand, Mark pondered on what one he should play, "Well, there's football and hockey. Which one do you prefer?" He asked with a crook of his brow.

"The one with the puck." Vicki replied in a more _seductive_ tone in her voice than her usual one.

"You mean hockey?" Mark answered, who couldn't help but gulp down the invisible lump in his throat, watching as she grinned, "Is that what it's called?"

Feeling his cheeks flush a little and hoping to God that Vicki didn't notice, Mark put the football game down and started up the hockey one, "Okay. What do you wanna play for?"

"_Position_."

Mark couldn't help but smile back at an already grinning Vicki, who had swapped her legs over and was leaning against her elbow on the table, her other hand on her hip. He knew automatically what she meant and blushed a little when he felt a slight flutter of butterflies in his stomach.


	10. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"Huynh!" Terri gasped for breath as she broke the surface of the lake, the Moon still shining brightly above to light the way back to the shore. The water felt fantastic against her delicate, naked skin and she revelled in it a few more minutes longer, dunking herself under the water again.

Back on the shore, her clothes were all clumped into one pile on some rocks and, as she disappeared under the surface of the lake, a hand reached out and took her pink crop-top and sweat-pants, leaving her the pair of trainers that were too far to reach from their position.

Popping back up Terri began swimming back to shore, now shivering under the sudden feel of cold and wanting to feel warm again. As she neared the shore she stopped to survey the area, feeling as though she was being watched but couldn't really tell because the dark obviously made it hard for her to see anything, let alone anyone who _might _be watching her.

Pushing herself onto her feet once she reached the shore Terri immediately felt the cold literally wrap around her wet body and instinctively covered her chest with her arms, trying to at least warm herself up while she was looking for her clothes. Not finding them at the spot where she dropped them, Terri looked around the place, suddenly frantic that she might have put them somewhere else when a branch cracked and she immediately spun in its direction.

Scott then appeared from behind the lifeguard's chair, her clothes on his person and a shit-eating grin on his face, "Looking for something?" He smirked before throwing down her sweatpants for her to pick up.

Terri let out a frustrated sigh, really not in the mood for this kind of shit, as she hurried over to the discarded piece of clothing and slipped them on after stepping into her trainers, hearing Scott laughing at her. Pulling the towel that was hanging on the arm of the lifeguard's chair, Terri dashed after Scott as soon as she saw him running into the direction of the woods.

"Damn it, give me my shirt back Scott, you dick!"

This only seemed to make Scott laugh at her "predicament" and disappeared through the trees hearing Terri shouting furiously, "When I get my hands on you!" and "Come on Scott!" Eventually Scott stopped in the middle of a small clearing, brandishing the top for Terri to come closer and get it. When she did, he whipped it behind his back, that smirk back on his face.

"Okay Scott, this is no longer funny." Her hands now firmly on her naked hips.

What Scott didn't realize was that, as he backed away, he was stepping closer to a snare made out of rope that was used by hunters to catch rabbits and other smaller mammals, but it was too late. He stepped back into the snare and it immediately tied itself round his ankles and pulled him up into the air, hanging upside down and flaying his arms about.

"Help! Goddamn that Paul! Him and his wilderness bullshit!" Scott exclaimed as he swung upside down in the air with Terri looking frantically at him, wondering what she could do to help.

"What should I do?" She asked, reaching out to stop him from swinging.

"Get me down, that's what!"

"I'll have to get a knife to cut the rope," she replied, surveying the rope that was tied to the nearby tree.

"Well, hurry up, okay?"

Taking a step back it was Terri's turn to smirk at his predicament, "I ought to let you hang, you pervert."

"Come on, Ter. Give me a break."

"You gonna cut the crap?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips again after taking the crop-top from Scott's hand and slipping it on.

"Sure, anything, I promise." He swore, his hands out by his side as though to say, "Come on, you can trust me".

"Okay." She replied simply, turning to leave before turning back again, that smug grin on her face, "Don't go anywhere." She then hurried off in the direction of the lodge and cabins, disappearing through the trees.

Scott arched his back to look in the direction she disappeared in, feeling the blood rushing to his head, "Very funny."

Pushing her way through the branches, Terri found herself behind the cabins and immediately walked around them, throwing the towel to God-knows-where and not really caring where it landed. Turning the corner of one of the cabins Terri found herself in front of her, Chantelle and Vicki's cabin and pulled open the door and rushed inside. Flipping on the light switch Terri started searching through all the drawers in the room but found nothing of any use. Observing the room Terri noticed the curtains and remembered that they'd put their bags behind them so that they'd be out of the way…

* * *

Dangling upside-down and with his arms near enough touching the floor, Scott let out a frustrated sigh, wondering why the hell it was taking Terri so long to acquire a knife and was starting to feel light-headed as the blood went straight to his head.

"What's taking her so long?" He asked himself when a branch cracked somewhere behind him and he jerked in that direction, wanting to know what caused it.

When he was facing in the direction, he could make out a human shape hidden behind the leaves of the trees and the darkness, immediately thinking this was a prank and that Jeff had organised it.

"Alright Jeff, you can come out now! I know you're there and I _know_ you set this up! Ha! Ha! It's was _very funny_, but now it beyond a joke so can you cut me down. I'm starting to feel woozy."

The figure stepped out from their hiding place and stomped toward the hanging Scott, their thundering footsteps catching his attention, as he suddenly realized that it wasn't Jeff at all. His footsteps never sounded like that and come to think of it, he wasn't that tall either and what was that over the guy's head? A pillow case?

"Hey! Stay away from me! Hel--," Scott straight away started to panic and was about to yell for help when the figure, whose face was obscured by what looked like a pillow-case over his head, vigorously fisted the helpless Scott by his hair with one hand, pulling it back a little. A slight yelp escaped from Scott's mouth as he could only watch as the figure pulled out a large machete from its holster attached to their belt. They pull it back behind them and Scott's eyes widen at the realization of his "dilemma".

"Nnnooo! Please -- uggh!" Scott's frightened pleas were quickly silenced when the towering figure shoved the machete vigorously through his mouth and out the back of his head, blood literally spraying everywhere. Holding the long blade in Scott's mouth for a moment, the killer can hear him gurgling on it and on his own blood as the crimson fluid trickled down the blade of the machete as well as out of his mouth. Retracting it once he was finally dead, they let Scott's head fall back and tilted their head to the side when they noticed that the machete had cut the corners of the victim's mouth, making it look bigger than it normally was. Satisfied with what they had done, the figure turned on their heels and disappeared back into the darkness of the forest, Scott's now dead body hanging motionless while his blood coloured the ground beneath him in a dark crimson…

* * *

Pulling the curtains open Terri bent over and fished through Chantelle's bag. Nothing. She swore quietly under her breath, tossing it aside and remembering that she never packed anything that resembled a knife so Terri took out Vicki's bag, opened it up and tipped all the contents out onto the floor. She knew Vicki was going to have a fit, and she'd deal with it later but right now, Scott needed her help.

"Aha!" Terri sighed in relief when she found it in one of the bag's side pockets. Leaving the bag where it was, for the moment, seeing as she'll be cleaning it up when she got back anyway, Terri rushed out the cabin and back to where she'd left Scott literally hanging.

With Vicki's Swiss army knife in hand, Terri approached Scott, his back facing, and her eyes wandered as she tried to find a safer way of cutting him down without hurting him…much.

"Alright Scott, I'm gonna cut you down. But I swear, if you ever do this to me again, I'm gonna cut your nuts off. Okay?" She threatened before returning to the task at hand.

"Scott?" She asked worryingly when he didn't attempt to answer back with a promise or even a tease.

It had gotten a little darker, since she'd left to fetch the knife and Terri couldn't quite see his face, seeing as it was shrouded by the enveloping darkness that seemed to close in on her. She bowed slightly forward to get a closer look and shot back in horror at what she saw, her hand instantly over her mouth. Scott was dead. Blood was caked and dripping out of his mouth as well as out of the massive bloodied wound that appeared at the back of his head. Backing away screaming as loud as her lungs could allow, Terri was about to turn and run, tell the others of what happened, when a branch cracked from somewhere right behind her and was grabbed forcefully by the shoulder by a large, strong hand.

"AAAAHHHH!" Terri shrieked loudly before she felt something hot in her stomach and looked down slowly to find that a large machete had speared through her back and out her front, its blade coated in her blood. Stunned at the blade sticking out in front of her, Terri weakly tried to grasp the bloody tip. She then felt the powerful grip on her shoulder tighten, stabilizing her, as the dark figure proceeded in pulling the machete upwards, practically sawing lengthwise up through her torso and effectively disembowelling her as her organs spill out, her screaming soon dying out as she collapsed in their arms, dead. The killer then threw her down onto the floor, grabbing her by the ankles and dragging her away into the night, leaving her innards to follow shortly behind…


	11. Chapter Nine

**Author's Note:** I am sorry I had to take a hiatus on this story but I haven't heard from my partner, Teenaged Angst, in a long while so I've had to write this without them and will continue to do so. I do hope you like the ending to this chapter and PLEASE, tell me what you think. I love reading everyone's opinions. They give me such inspiration to try new things and I've got plenty stored in my big cranium of mine. (It's big because it's stuffed with so many ideas! Heh! Heh!)

Hope you like this chapter and I'll try to update ASAP! Enjoy!!!

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Elsewhere, back at the bar, the place was brimming with people dancing and swaying with their friends or their partners to the funky music, played by a tribute band that consisted of two electric guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer. A waitress had to try her best to not knock into them as she collected the empty beer bottles from a few of the tables that surround the dance-floor. From where Ginny, Paul and Ted were sitting, they can easily see Chantelle fraternizing with a couple of boys on the dance-floor, all trying their best to win her affection.

As the waitress returned to the bar with the empty bottles Ted, who was clearly drunk up to this point, used the two empty bottles that he'd drunken earlier as binoculars, ogling at the waitress with them, "I think I'm in love," he manages to utter, the tone of his voice making it evident that he was drunk, "No, no, it's just tremendous affection."

All Ginny and Paul could do was laugh at his wild antics as the waitress stopped what she was doing and asked politely, "You sure you don't want me to clear those?"

"Nah, I'm collecting these," he replied, waving his hand over them to say "These are mine".

"Have it your way, honey. I just don't want the bar to fall down on you." And like that, she disappeared out from behind the bar to collect the other empty glasses and bottles that were standing around.

Paul, calming down after laughing so much, inched closer to Ted and mutters, "I think she likes you."

"I think so too," he laughed, taking a swig from one of the bottles but, thanks to the lubrication of alcohol that had dulled his mind to a stupor, quickly realized that it was empty.

"This whole thing's ridiculous, really. Two of our kids got hauled in today, because four years ago some girl panics and falls out of a canoe. It's absurd."

Listening in but having no desire now to take anymore swigs of her bottled drink, Ginny asked seemingly out of nowhere, "What if there is a _Jason_?"

This got the full attention of her boyfriend, who immediately interjected with a hard, "Oh, that's bullshit, Ginny."

"No, what if there is some kind of boy-beast running around Camp Crystal Lake?" She counteracted, putting her knowledge of child psychology to work, "Let's try to think beyond the legend. Put it in real terms. I mean, what would he be like today? Some kind of out-of-control psychopath? A frightened retard? A child trapped in a man's body?"

It was at this moment of seriousness that Ted pulled a funny, pulling at his shirt and squeaking, "Let me out! Let me out!" as though something was trying to escape from within.

Ginny huffed, annoyed at the fact that they weren't taking her seriously before asking them, "He'd be grown by now, right?"

"Right." Paul answered, seeing as Ted was too focused on the empty bottles he was collecting to really truly listen to her explanation.

"And, you know, the only person that ever knew him was his mother. He never went to school, so he never had any friends. She was everything to him."

The boys stop to think about what she was saying before Paul replied in a voice that told her that he too was now under the influence of drinking too much alcohol, "Yeah. Deranged killer." The two then burst out laughing, thinking it to be just some ordinary joke.

"No, no, no. You're missing my whole point," she countered with the shake of her head, "I mean, I doubt Jason would have even known the meaning of death. Or at least until that horrible night. He must have seen the whole thing happen. He must have seen his mother killed, and all just because she loved him. Isn't that what her revenge was all about? Her sense of loss, her rage at what she thought happened, her love for him?" There was a moment of silence, save for the music in the background, before Ginny uttered softly, "Bizarre, isn't it?"

The boys were silent, just looking at each other, Ted smiling a little.

"He must be out there right now, crying for her return, her resurrection. Well, what do you think?" She asked them, wanting to hear their opinion on the whole _Jason _situation.

"I think you're drunk, babe," answered Paul, leaning himself against the bar as Ginny huffed again at the frustration that they'd probably haven't been listening to every word she'd said.

"I'll drink to that," cheered Ted, "Hit us again, sweetheart," he asked the waitress, who'd just come back from clearing the bar of any empty glasses and bottles that she could find.

"Not me," Ginny huffed, hands covering her face, wondering why the hell she brought the subject up if they were just going to throw it back in her face. After combing her hair away from her face with a hand, Ginny turned her head to face Paul, "You know, Paul, I'm really serious about this though."

Paul was in serious mode now, the drunkenness nowhere to be seen on his features, "Jason's a legend, Ginny, a legend." And that was all he had to say on the matter, picking up the bottle in front of him and taking a satisfying swig from it, Ginny having leant back on her stool, sighing to herself.

* * *

Back at the training centre, the mysterious prowler was looking through one of the downstairs window, eyeing Mark playing on one of his electronic games before it was taken away from him from Vicki, who had returned from the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand.

"Your turn," Vicki uttered, passing the game back to Mark, "Three goals or you're gonna lose."

Mark smirked at her enthusiasm, eyes on the game as it started, "Yeah, I've heard that one before," he replied but his voice didn't sound all that interested in the game.

Taking in his features Vicki takes a sip of her water before asking softly, "I don't mean to pry or anything and if you feel uncomfortable about what I'm about to ask, you don't have to answer."

"Okay. Ask away," Mark replied, sounding a little confused at what she might be getting at.

"What happened that you caused you to be in that wheelchair?"

Not turning his head to face her but instead concentrated on the game, Mark answered plain and simple, "Motorcycle accident, paralysed my legs."

"Is it permanent?" She urged on, a hand on his arm for comfort, squeezing it a little for extra reassurance.

"The doctors think so. I don't. I don't intend to be in this thing for the rest of my life." His lips widen into a smirk, his sheer determination in his belief that he'd walk again was what most people admired him for.

Vicki couldn't help herself. She had to smirk as well at the next question she was going to ask, "Just your legs, huh? Is everything else okay?"

As if by telepathic thought, Mark got the gist of what she was getting at and smirked, "Oh, I do all right, one way or another." At this moment in time, he'd stopped playing the game and was now focusing on Vicki, who was staring right back at him.

* * *

Upstairs, Jeff was lounging on the bed, his head lying comfortably on the soft pillow, playing his harmonica as he waited for Sandra to come to bed. After so long though, she climbed onto the bed, lifted his muscle shirt up to kiss his toned abs before gripping it by the hem and pulling it off. Jeff laughed at her surprising energy before leaning up and capturing her lips with his own. Putting his harmonica on the bedside table, he smiled down at Sandra, who was busy kissing every naked spot on his chest and then decided to indulge in another zealous kiss right afterward. Breaking away just as fast Sandra pulled out the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing the discarded piece of clothing in Jeff's face, who couldn't help but laugh infectiously.

* * *

Back downstairs, Mark was staring up at the ceiling, a handful of images playing through his mind at what they might be doing before Vicki's voice interrupted, which he didn't mind at all.

"So, this game we're playing, what does the winner get?" Her voice sounded soft, softer than it was just a few minutes ago. Mark thought it was music to his ears.

"What does the winner what?" He asked, watching as Vicki sat up straighter in her chair, to become level with him before replying softly again, "Guess."

Before he could start guessing though, Vicki rested a hand on one side of his neck and pulled him into a gentle kiss. Mark copied her movement shortly afterward, pulling her closer to him to make it more passionate, more needy. It left them breathless when they eventually pulled away.

Still with her hand on his neck, Vicki looked into his eyes, a nice grin on her face, "Want to stay together tonight?" Their faces were still mere inches away from each other and Mark could feel her sweet, warm breath against his, his own against hers.

He smirks, laughing mentally at the sheer fact that he was thinking the exact same thing, "Funny you should ask because I was just moments away from asking you the same thing."

Vicki chuckled at this, "Oh yeah? My cabin or yours?"

Mark thought for a moment, was about to say his when he remembered something, "Oh, Ted's in mine. I don't think that would work out."

Vicki shook her head at that notion, her luscious red lips still holding that cheeky grin in place, "No matter, we've got the whole camp to ourselves. We'll find our own cabin. Just give me a few minutes to get some things, okay?" Vicki at the time was idly caressing Mark's chin with her thumb, giving his skin underneath goose-bumps.

"Sure." He answered simply, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Okay, be right back." Leaning forward to give Mark a quick, chaste kiss, Vicki climbed out of her chair and hurried out the front door, just as a stroke of lightning lit the night sky in a bright, white light.

* * *

Arriving at her cabin shortly after leaving the house, Vicki pushed through the storm door and reached up to flick on the lights. Nothing. She looked up at the light on the ceiling, flicking the light switch up and down a few times before stopping.

"Oh, damn it," she cursed to herself as she moved forward to try one of the bedside lamps. Still nothing. Frustrated, she looked around the room to see if anything was amiss, unless it was the storm that caused it, when she immediately saw the answer to her problem.

"Oh Terri, you're unbelievable." She found that the bedside lamp's plug was out of its socket, leaning down to grab and plug it back in.

Turning around Vicki saw her bag on the floor with all the contents scattered around it. Kneeling down to collect her things, she placed them back in one-by-one, muttering, "What the hell now?" to herself before supporting it against the wall beside her bed, not even thinking to check to see if everything was in there.

Grabbing the hem of her shirt Vickie pulled it over her head and threw it onto her bed, turning to face the curtains, she opened them up and picked out her clothes bag and literally threw it on the bed. Next pulling down her trousers, she threw them onto the bed, before opening the bag, now in only her bra and panties.

Searching through her bag Vicki wanted to find something sexy to wear for Mark. Something that would make his jaw literally drop to the floor. At that moment she found them. Silky white panties with a black love-heart sewn onto the groin which matched her silky bra. Perfect for what she and Mark had in store.

Quickly taking off her plain underwear Vickie got to work in slipping on her new ones, loving the feel as they ride slowly up her legs. Feeling more to her like fingertips. Next she slipped on the bra, clipping it behind her back before reaching out to grab the trousers she just took off.

Then she heard something. Something that sounded like a sudden shuffle. Something that sounded like it was coming from right under her very _**bed**_! Without even time to dodge the attack or even run for the door, two enlarged hands reached out from the shadows and gripped Vicki tightly round the ankles.

"AARRGGHH!" She screamed, as the arms pulled hard, causing her to fall hard onto her back, the wind knocked right out of her. She didn't have time to get her breath back because she was trying to kick and scream and do whatever she could to escape whoever was trying to pull her under the bed but couldn't. They were too strong, their hold on her ankles tight as a python's grip.

All Vicki could remember before succumbing to eternal darkness was seeing white on top of her. The screaming soon stopped and in its place, sounds of something sharp repeating slicing and dicing her soft, perfect skin. A few seconds later blood started to trail from under each side of the bed, the sound of a trapdoor clicking shut could be heard before silence overcame again...


	12. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

It'd had been a long while now since Vicki had left to change and Mark was starting to get just a tad worried. Since then he's wheeled himself into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water and was now back in the living room, playing on one of the electronic games. It had also started raining when he'd entered the kitchen, the thunder continuing to roar in the sky sounding like war drums followed by the sudden flash of lightning. He could hear the soft sounds of the rain pitter-pattering on the porch roof outside and smiled. He'd always like the sound of rain and thunder. Ever since he was a little boy it always soothed him while it terrified others.

With Jeff and Sandra still busy upstairs and the others not being back yet from the bar, Mark was on his own and wondering where Vicki could've got to. Then he heard something. Something that sounded like it was coming from outside. On the porch. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

Mark looked up from his game and called, "Vicki?" No answer. He shrugged his shoulders and returned to his game when the sound occurred again. This time a little louder. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

"Vicki?" No answer again. "Vicki, is that you?" Mark called out again, this time putting the game down and wheeling himself to the door. Now intrigued in finding out who or what was making that noise.

Pushing himself out through the storm door Mark rolled onto the porch, looking left and right but not seeing anybody. Not even Vicki. Moving forward until he was just a foot or two away from the long stairs that lead down to the beach, Mark looked left and right again just to check that no-one was sneaking up on him. What felt like hours passing by, but only mere seconds, something glinted right in front of the porch stairs and immediately caught Mark's attention. (CH CH CH AH AH AH) As he bent right over to pick it up, the sudden momentum of a machete slicing through the air caused him to topple over and fall right down the stairs!

He didn't even see who'd attacked him as he continued to tumble down the stairs, pain on every inch of his body as it whacked against the stony stairs until he landed face first and in a heap on the wet mud below. The attacker; who was obviously a man, being very tall, wearing dirty clothes and face obscured with a white pillowcase with a hole in it for his one eye to see through, stepped down the stairs, machete in hand, with one thing on his mind. As he neared the sprawled victim, he could see that he was trying to crawl away but with a broken arm and not enough strength in the other to do so, he wasn't going to get very far.

Mark, whose blood spluttered out his mouth, cried out in pain as he tried his hardest to crawl away but it seemed futile, what with his strength literally zapped away from him. Over the light rain he could hear his attacker's footsteps, sounding like thunder themselves, as they approached him from behind. Their feet on either side of his body, looming over him. He was abruptly grabbed by his hair, pulling him up high enough so that his chest was in the air and his stomach lay in the wet mud. Mark didn't see what was coming next.

"Aaahhh--uunnhh!" Mark hollered, the hulking figure spearing his machete, which he gripped tightly, right through Mark's throat so vigorously that his blood sprayed everywhere. After a few seconds of hearing his victim gurgling on his own blood, he twisted the machete, opening the wound even more before slicing it vertically, leaving Mark half-decapitated.

Like most of the others, the figure grabbed Mark by his ankles and pulled him away, out of sight, leaving behind a dragging trail as well as his blood. It will soon be washed away by the rain…(CH CH CH AH AH AH)

* * *

"Huh! Huh! Hunnhh!" Sandra gasped, straddled on top of Jeff while lay below, hands gripping her slender hips as she bounced up and down. The fast movement causing the bed to creak incessantly but not really caring that they could be heard.

* * *

Downstairs the hulking figure, who'd quickly hidden Mark's body, stepped into the quiet house, now with only two residing inside, his course straight for the stairs. On the bottom, stood up against the wall, was the spear that Ted had used with his costume and mask in order to scare the others when Paul was telling them his story about Jason Voorhees. Now he was picking it up, throwing the mask that was hooked on it away and ascending up the stairs, with one thing on his mind…(CH CH CH AH AH AH)

* * *

"Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck! YYYEEESSS!" Sandra was practically screaming her words as she was on the verge of her orgasm. Jeff, with his eyes tightly closed and his teeth clenched together, continued to thrust from under her, his breath quickening and his skin, like hers, secreting with sweat.

"Almost…there, Sandra!" Jeff gasped, still holding onto her by her hips as she continued to bounce on top of him, her fingers gripping her hair tightly.

A few minutes afterward, they both cried out their climaxes, Sandra's muscles tightly around Jeff's arousal as he milked everything he'd got inside of her. A second later Sandra collapsed on top of her lover, both completely spent, and panting like they'd just ran a marathon.

"That…was…fantastic, babe," Jeff managed to say through his gasping as he leaned up and kissed her on the forehead, Sandra smiling as he did so.

"Did you think anyone heard us?" She asked, a wide grin on her face, knowing already what her answer would be as Jeff was too exhausted to talk now so he just nodded, kissing her on the exact same spot on her forehead again.

Too engross in each other, they both didn't hear the sound of the door opening slowly or see the huge figure entering the room with a large spear in his hands (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Well, they did have the lights off and they were giggling like they were kids. Sandra sat up, still straddling Jeff, and let out a cat-like stretch, her arms looking like they were trying to touch the ceiling. Jeff happened to swerve his head to his left and immediately gasped in horror as a strike of lightning illuminated the otherwise darkened room and noticed the hulking figure with a white pillowcase covering his head. Gripped tightly in his hands was the spear Ted had used in the stunt, he and Paul had pulled that night around the campfire.

"What the fuck?" Jeff gasped, Sandra noticing the horrified expression on his face and turning to see what had caused it. And see it she did, but was too late to do anything as the figure rushed beside the bed and forced it vigorously through her back, it protruding out through her chest, right between her breasts to be exact. The sudden attack caused her blood to spray all over Jeff, the bed and the wall behind them as the killer then proceeded in lifting her right up into the air.

At this time Jeff had slid off the bed and was crawling toward the wall, sitting up against it and screaming so loud he wondered why the hell the others weren't running to their rescue. Sandra must've lasted for another few seconds before she slumped forward on the spear, blood continuing to trickle down her body and onto the bed. The killer, realizing that she was now dead, threw her onto it before spinning around to face the cowering Jeff. Jeff, naked as the day he was born covered in Sandra's blood, immediately climbed to his feet and ran for the door. Managing to reach it, Jeff slipped past it before the killer could grab him, unsheathing his machete from its holster as he did so.

Crying hysterically at the fact that the fucker had just killed Sandra, Jeff descended down the stairs, not caring in the least that he was stark naked, when the killer managed to grab him by his hair.

"AARRGGHH!" Jeff cried out, feeling the sudden pain it gave out as his hair was gripped and pulled tightly. Tears formed and streaked down his cheeks as Jeff was persistent in getting himself out of the killer's grip, blood starting to seep down his face as he did.

The pain was intense but he would have to endure it if he wanted to get out of this alive. With a final tug Jeff had managed to free himself, screaming out again as clumps of his hair was pulled out, leaving behind bald patches covered in blood. Literally jumping down the rest of the stairs Jeff fell onto his front but quickly got up again, bounding for the front door, looking for the others clearly having left his mind. Once outside Jeff turned his head left and right, heart pounding so hard it could burst out his chest, not being able to think straight because of it. Running on pure adrenaline.

Choosing to run to his right instead of down the stairs to the beach area, Jeff jumped down the small set of steps, slipping on the wet mud caused by the heavy downpour and falling onto his front again. Struggling to get up, thanks to the pelting rain, Jeff managed to get back on his feet, yet his entire front was now caked with the wet mud. He didn't seem to care though. What was a little mud when there was a psycho killer hot on his tail? Speaking of which, he turned back around to see if he was following him and thankfully Jeff couldn't see any sign of him. Which, to him, wasn't entirely a good thing. The fucker could jump out of nowhere.

Not wanting to wait and find out, Jeff turned around again and climbed up the small hill that led to Paul and Ginny's cabin as well as the pebbled road which led out of the camp. He chose to go to the former; not wanting to run anymore in the rain as his feet were starting to go numb, and he was shivering like crazy. As he climbed up the small set of wooden steps onto the porch, Jeff risked a quick glance behind him and saw that the hulking killer was just stepping down the steps he'd jumped down before slipping in the mud moments before. The killer was looking left and right, searching for the one that had gotten away before his eyes set themselves on the mud before him (CH CH CH AH AH AH). _Oh shit! _Jeff exclaimed in his head, realizing that the killer had just noticed Jeff's footprints in the mud.

Wasting no more time Jeff rushed across the porch and opened the door into the cabin, closing it behind him quickly but as quietly as possible. He then proceeded on locking it as best he could before falling down on all fours, so as not to be seen when he passed any windows. Crawling hastily through the small kitchen and into the bedroom beside it, using the moonlight seeping in through the windows as guidance, Jeff headed toward the wardrobe and slowly opened the door, praying to God that it wasn't going to make a sound. Thankfully it didn't so Jeff was able to pull off a pair of Paul's jeans from the hanger without making too much noise.

Even though Paul was broader round the waist than Jeff muscularly, they still managed to cling onto his hips as he buttoned and zipped them up before closing the door again. Somewhat glad now that he wasn't naked any more. As soon as he closed the door though, he saw from the corner of his eye the killer as he passed the window from the right, machete in hand (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Jeff immediately sunk to his knees, scurrying across the floor until his back hit the wall beside the window, both hands over his mouth to make sure that he didn't make any sudden sounds.

The killer stopped to peer through the window with his one good eye, Jeff seeing his huge silhouette in the moonlight mimicking the action before he disappeared out of sight. After a few seconds of waiting Jeff let out a quiet sigh of relief, trying to get the breath back that he'd held in. Unexpectedly the room exploded into a cluster of shattered glass as the killer had jumped through the window! Jeff immediately scurried across the room, heading back to the front door when a large hand grabbed him roughly at the scruff of his neck. He abruptly thrown him back into the bedroom, landing hard on the floor, some of the glass sticking into his back.

Jeff clenched his teeth; the pain in his back unbearable, knowing full well that he'd be bleeding in a matter of seconds. Looking up Jeff could see the killer clearly now; a white pillowcase covering his head; a single hole for his eye to see through; dirty overalls that looked like they hadn't been clean for like forever; the machete tightly gripped in his left hand, ready to strike. Knowing that it was now or never, one of Jeff's hands gripped a large glass shard and before the killer could strike out with his machete, Jeff raised the shard high into the air and vigorously stabbed it right into the hulk's thigh, whom let out a mighty roar as it was pushed in deeper.

Letting go Jeff scurried to his feet and raced for the shattered window, now his only escape, his mind not thinking about his bleeding hand which was cut by gripping the shard. As he practically lunged himself out of the shattered window, a piece of shard that stuck out from the window pane sliced him as he dove through, cutting a vertical line down his side. Jeff clenched his teeth and groaned at the sudden, sharp pain that resembled there, rolling onto his back on the wet grass outside.

Holding onto the bleeding wound with one hand, Jeff staggered to his feet, the sudden attack to his side already taking its toll on him. Hurrying as fast as he could into the woods, Jeff kept looking behind him to make sure the killer wasn't following. Brushing past overgrown branches and trying to ignore the pain in his side and the stabs at his feet from the wild flora on the ground, Jeff pushed himself to his limits. He knew he was moving away from the camp but his best bet was to find the main road and hoped to God that a passer-by will stop to help him.

As he passed the trees that looked like they were about to attack him from everywhere he turned, with their branches outstretched in front of them like arms, Jeff thought he heard footsteps and instantly started to panic. Putting as much pressure on the wound as he could, Jeff climbed round a rather thick tree and pushed his back up against it, trying to slow down his breathing so as not to give away his position. Just as he did however, the killer entered the small cluster of trees and scanned the area for any signs of him, machete still in hand but now with a wounded leg from Jeff stabbing him with the shard (CH CH CH AH AH AH). Jeff near enough held his breath as he waited for the sound of footsteps to disappear, eventually doing so after what felt like an eternity. Once he felt sure it was safe to take a look Jeff ever so slowly edged himself around the tree to take a peek and saw that the killer was no-where in sight.

Back with the 'finding of the main road' plan Jeff went to turn around to start jogging in the opposite direction he came in from but was instantly surprised to see the killer standing motionless just a foot behind him. Seeming to appear out of fucking nowhere.

_What the fuck?_ The words entered his thoughts, wondering how the hell someone his size managed to move without making a sound when the hulk launched the machete so fast and strong that it gored Jeff through the chest and lifted him into the air, pinning him to the tree behind him, blood painting the side of the tree's trunk. The sudden thrust caused Jeff to cough up blood, reddening his lips as it dribbled down his chin.

The killer, watching as Jeff took his last few breaths, tilted his head to the side for a moment, as though trying to study the picture in front of him, before leaving Jeff to hang, disappearing into the trees, on his way back to the camp for the others (CH CH CH AH AH AH)…


	13. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

A little while later, back at the bar, it was raining again, pouring actually, and the parking lot was crowded with all sorts of vehicles, their owners not thinking of leaving just yet.

Inside, the bar was livelier than it had been a few hours before. Customers, regular or new, were crowding the bar area as all the tables and booths were swarmed by many. Some were couples, kissing each other softly and seeming to forget that anyone else was around, some were heavily involved in conversations, yet had to shout to each other because of the noise, and others were engrossed in playing drinking games with one another.

Still seated at the bar Ginny had changed her drink to a Coke, seeing as she'll be the one driving back to camp while Paul and Ted stuck with the alcoholic drinks. Preferably, anything that was high on vol. To Ginny's comfort Chantelle had joined her not too long ago, walking off the dance-floor and sat in the empty stool to Ginny's right, informing her that she was all 'danced out'.

"Do you girls wanna head back? I've gotta get some sleep," Paul asked, not sounding at all drunk to Ginny's surprise.

Both of the girls nodded. Ginny combed her fingers through her hair before stretching up, showing Paul that she felt the same way, "Yeah. I'm tired too."

Paul turned to Ted, who was about falling asleep right there at the counter, having consumed a lot more than Paul had, "Come on Teddy. Time to go and hit the hay. I need you refreshed for our big day tomorrow."

Ted, who opened his eyes vaguely, the trio seeing that they were clearly blood-shot, nodded hazily before trying to stand up but his drinking got the better of him, his legs giving out. Fortunately Paul was close enough to catch him in his arms before he hit the floor, wrapping one of Ted's arms around his shoulders and gradually heading for the door.

"See you later, Beth." Ginny said, waving to the bartender they'd gotten to know in just a few hours.

The bartender smiled, waved a hand before attending to the other customers, "Yeah, see ya Ginny. You drive safe now, ya hear? Sounds like the rain's not letting up!" She shouted over the sound of the music and the customer's requests for their drinks.

Pushing through the door Ginny and the others knew Beth wasn't kidding. It was pelting it down, the raindrops probably the size of golf-balls the way they sounded, splashing against the many cars and the ground. They were going to get drenched before they even reached the bottom of the small wooden steps so, with a nod of his head to the direction of Ginny's car, Paul led the girls, with Ted leaning against him, toward it.

Taking longer than it should've done to get to the car, seeing as Paul had to literally carry Ted along with him, he pulled out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the passenger side door. He opened it, shoved Ted in before closing the door again and giving the keys to Ginny, seeing as she was the one who'll be driving them back to the camp. Afterward he climbed into the back with Chantelle while Ginny climbed in the front, helping Ted buckle his seatbelt. When she looked across at the drunken youth, she could obviously see in his face that he was pale, bloodshot and heaving in short breaths, like he was going to be sick all over the interior of her car.

Buckling herself in, she had to risk it. Turning the ignition the engine coughed, spluttered, and could've died if it hadn't of fired up just then. Roaring in unison with the thunder outside, accompanied a few seconds later by a crack of lightning.

"Alright Ted, do you think you can hold it in until we're back at the camp? Because if you can't, I'm sticking your head out the window," Ginny joked, the others knowing full well that if Ted was going to vomit back up his drinks, they were 100% sure she _was_ going to shove his head out the window.

Ted didn't answer, just nodded but not too quickly.

"Alright, everybody buckled in?"

Everyone else in the car nodded. Chantelle wrapped her coat a little tighter around herself, still feeling the cold of the rain even though Ginny had turned the heater on.

"Then let's go. Hopefully, by the time we get back to camp, everyone else will be asleep for us to move in quietly." She beamed, pulling the gear into first and driving out of the small parking area, the rain continuing to batter against her car, not realizing how wrong she was…

* * *

On his way back to the camp the killer, who'd left his machete behind because he'd used too much of his unnatural strength to embed his unfortunate victim with it into the trunk of the tree, was now waiting in the darkness for the others to arrive. He was going to have to take care of them. They were obviously doing things that his 'Mother' didn't approve of, and when she was like this, he never wanted to disappoint her.

Just then he heard the sounds of a car driving down the pebbled road that led to the small parking lot behind the lodge and knew it was _them_. _Them_, whose lives were in his hands and were _not_ going to leave this camp _alive_ for what they've done…

* * *

Pulling the car into 'park' once Ginny had drove into an empty space, she, Paul and Chantelle climbed out of the car and hurried to Ted's side. Once opening the door Ted's head poked out and automatically heaved, vomiting onto the ground near enough the trio's feet. Chantelle stepped back in disgust, even know she'd been in that situation countless times before, "Ewww! You could've puked on my new shoes, Teddy!" She practically squealed, jumping out of the way of the spray of sick, mostly made up of the alcohol he'd just drank. She'd nearly tripped over herself when her right foot stepped on a rather large rock. She managed to keep herself upright while Paul and Ginny helped Ted out of the passenger's side.

"Okay, Ted. I am now _officially _taking you off drinking until this course's over and done with. I need you focused, alert. I need you _sober_." Paul went on, with one of Ted's arm around his shoulders and the other around Ginny's, directing the drunken lad to his and Mark's cabin.

"Oh, leave him be Paul. Do you think he's gonna remember all that when he wakes up in the morning? Just tell him then," Ginny implied, Paul smirking and nodding his head, knowing that she was absolutely right.

They didn't seem to realize that Chantelle was still standing by the car, raising her hand up, "Hey guys! I'm just gonna head straight to bed! I'll see you in the morning!" She walked slowly down the way that Ginny and Paul were going with Ted before taking off down the small slope to the left, where the girl's cabins were situated.

"We'll see you in the morning, Chantelle! Goodnight!" Paul shouted into the silent night, Ginny saying "Goodnight" as well before they were soon splitting apart by the paths they were taking.

As she paced herself slowly to the furthest cabin nearest the lake that she shared with Sandra, her slick, black high-heels clicking against the stoned path, Chantelle could see from where she was that there was no lights on in the cabin, meaning to her that Sandra must be asleep.

Reaching the door Chantelle turned the doorknob ever so gently, not wanting to wake Sandra up and hear about how she and Jeff had got it on while the 'parents' weren't around. Not wanting to turn the lights on either, Chantelle used the light from the Moon seeping in through the window to make her way over to the joined-in bathroom, closing the door behind her. Once it was she tugged on the light that dangled in front of her, and started to strip off her clothes; pulling her black vest-top over her head; pulling her denim mini-skirt down her legs, as well as her black tights, and stepping out of her black high-heels, piling them up as she did.

In just her bra and panties Chantelle gathered her clothes in her arms and walked back out, feeling the sudden cold that had crept in when she'd walked in. Throwing her used clothes into the wash basket Chantelle ambled her way over to her bed, flicking the bedside lamp on, and opening up the third to last drawer of the bedside dresser, taking out a short-sleeved, thin cotton violet nightshirt she'd bought herself with the money she'd gotten from her 21st birthday last year. With it now on, her hands disappeared right underneath it, fiddled about for a second or two, and then reappeared, the bra that she was wearing now gripped in one of her palms. She also threw that into the wash basket. That was when she realized that, where Sandra was sleeping on the bed, head nearest the wall, there was a patch of discolouring on the white blanket where her abdomen would be.

Tip-toeing a little closer, so as not to wake her, Chantelle could see, thanks to the moonlight, that the patch of colour was brown and it still looked wet. Not being able to hold it back Chantelle whispered out to her, "_Sandra_? Sandra, are you okay under there?"

Persisting in tip-toeing closer she saw that Sandra's chest wasn't moving, as though she was breathing, and now that she looked at it, now that she was close enough to interpret, the patch of discolour looked a lot like the colour of…_Blood?_

"Sandra?" Chantelle replied, loud enough for anyone to hear if they were in the room. She reached out with her hand, shaking at the mere thought of what she might find underneath the covers. Gripping the edge tightly Chantelle took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in her throat and with one mighty jerk, she pulled back the blanket only to step back in horror, her hands straight over her mouth, her eyes widen with fear. Her abrupt scream seeming to echo throughout the cabin, sure to alert the others.

Lying down on the bed, as though someone had just dumped her on it, was Sandra's bare-naked body, covered in blood from the waist down, with some splattered across her chest, a gaping wound evident at the bottom of her slender stomach. Her ghostly pale eyes staring back at her, seeming to bore right into her very soul. Chantelle was lost for breath, gasping to get air into her lungs as she continued to stare at Sandra, not wanting to look away and _secretly _hoping that this was just a sick joke for being held back for wandering off with her boyfriend. Nevertheless Sandra didn't jump out at her. Nor did she start breathing. Sandra was stone-cold dead. Her skin now looking pale like a ghost against the moonlight, her lips an ashen blue. Chantelle knew then that she'd taken her last breath.

Now with the feeling in her legs Chantelle near enough flew herself at the door, grabbing the doorknob with both hands and swinging it open, only to gasp out in horror when a hulking figure dressed in dirty overalls with a white pillowcase over her head blocked her way out.

_What the fuck?_ She immediately thought as she slammed the door in the guy's face, locking it afterward and pressing her back against it in an endeavour to keep it shut. A few seconds later she screamed out as the door began to bang, sounding like he was using something to batter it with. She didn't know what to do. The only reasonable way out was blocked by a psychopath so that left the bathroom window.

_But can I fit through?_ She asked herself but couldn't dwell on it too long because whatever the guy was using to batter the door with was starting to come through.

Chantelle spun and backed away; able to see that it was an axe that he was using to hack the door with, her feet nearly falling over Sandra's bags as she treaded backward. Cranking her head back and forth, from the main door to the bathroom, Chantelle could see that he'd made a nice hole sufficient to fit his hand through and it was only seconds away until he was inside. Wasting no more time she spun on the balls of her feet, rushed in the direction of the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, bolting it up nice and tight. Her heart was pounding against her chest, her breaths hasty and short, her legs beginning to feel like jelly as he backed herself against the sink, just waiting for him to start attacking the door. A few quiet seconds later she heard the unlocking of the cabin door, thunderous footsteps bounding across the room, knowing exactly where she'd run into. Not wanting to wait for him to start taking down the door in front of her, Chantelle spun to stand in front of the window, her damp hair whipping against her face as she pulled at the handle to opening it upward.

Pulling the lid down on the toilet she used it as leverage to make it easier for her to climb through the window. By the width and height of it, Chantelle knew she'd be able to fit through but she suddenly slipped and let out a loud scream when her pursuer started hacking at the bathroom door. Grabbing onto the sides of the alcove which surrounded the window Chantelle managed to maintain her position between the toilet and the window, her right leg which rested on the lid starting to shake under her weight.

_What the hell's going on? Has he killed the others? Has he already killed Paul, Ginny and Ted?_ All sorts of thoughts were passing through her mind as she used her arm strength to hold onto the windowpane so she could put her legs through the open window.

She was just about to slip through the window when she realized that the hacking had stopped. Risking a glance Chantelle cranked her head back around to noticed that there was several holes in the wooden door but no psycho.

_Oh shit!_ Her mind exclaimed as she quickly slipped out the window, grasping the fact that he could be round there any second and she wouldn't have the opportunity to escape. Landing on the damp, sludgy mud on all fours she unluckily didn't have the chance to even move when a powerful foot stepped onto her back, pinning her to the ground. She immediately felt the cold mud caking to her night shirt, her face.

"Nnnooo! Please! _God_, no!" She pleaded, trying to push herself up and away from his grip, but to no avail.

The hulking figure revealed the axe behind his back, raising it up in the air to give him the needed force to do what needed to be done. Chantelle didn't even have a chance to scream as the axe sliced the air vertically and hacked into the back of her neck, decapitating her completely in just one, powerful swipe. Her head rolled down the small mound as blood leached rapidly out of her open neck. When he picked it up by her hair, he saw that her mouth was wide open, when she tried to scream, a line of blood dribbling out of it, down her chin. Her eyes were pure white, the irises at the back of her head.

_One down, three to go. Then Mother will be pleased._ He subsequently heaved her headless body off the ground and onto her shoulder before disappearing into the woods to settle her with the others…


	14. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

They had settled Ted on his single bed, not bothering to undress him as he specifically wanted to just go to sleep. They didn't want to argue with a drunken Teddy so they did just that. On the other side of the room Ginny had noticed that Mark wasn't in his bed so that meant he was still at the lodge beside the lake. The others were probably still there too. Once Paul had secured Ted with a bucket, for him to be sick in if the moment ever occurred, and Ginny had placed a glass of cold water on his bedside table, they both said their 'goodnights', whether Ted heard them or not, and left the cabin hand-in-hand.

At this time, with the crescent moon shining brightly in the clear, starry night, the air was crisp, fresh from the rain, as though it was the middle of autumn, Ginny tightened her arm around Paul's, craving for any warmth that he could give.

Paul looked down at Ginny, a smile growing on his cool, deep-red lips, "You cold, honey?"

_Honey? What are we, thirty-something-year-olds? _Ginny asked herself, smiling back as Paul waited for his answer, both carefully stepping down the small hill toward the lodge. They could see that all of the lights downstairs were still on.

"_Damn _straight I am. So hug me close so I can steal some of your warmth." Ginny decreed, laughing as Paul squeezed her as much as he could against him.

"I know something _else_ that could keep you warm. It involves a nice, double bed with thick quilts, us underneath them, completely naked back up that a way!" He pointed to their cabin that was slowly disappearing into the distance, earning himself a _hard_ punch to his upper left arm, letting out a laugh that made Ginny feel safe, loved.

The three-inch heels to her 'Ginerva' boots (by Gucci) seemed to echo into the night as they clicked up the small, wooden steps onto the porch, both of them not even noticing the muddy footprints belonging to Jeff who'd made them an hour or so ago.

Ginny gazed through one of the windows that looked into the den; nothing seemed to be out of place, the fire was still burning brightly and it was surprisingly quiet. _A little too quiet for a bunch of twenty-something's_, Ginny thought to herself as she followed Paul inside, suddenly feeling the warmth from the crackling fire when she stepped in.

"What the hell are the lights still doing on?" Paul asked as he made his way through the living room and then disappeared into the kitchen, his pounding footsteps Ginny's only way of knowing of his presence.

"Paul, they wouldn't have left the place like this." She said, following shortly behind him until she stopped at the foot of the stairs, her hands rubbing the tops of her arms, trying to get rid of the sudden chill she had felt as they came in through the door. "Think something's wrong?" She called out into the darkness of the other room, Paul switching on the light a second later, not answering though as he was too transfixed on the bag of dope that was laying on the table.

"I'll check upstairs," Ginny decided, more to herself than to Paul who was wondering what to do with it when he heard a sudden cry of his name. It was Ginny's, sounding like it was coming from the room directly above him. Which, if he can remember, was one of the bedrooms.

When he found her, she was in one of the darkened bedrooms with the light from the moon looming in through one of the windows that faced it. Ginny was standing a foot away from the double bed, having turned over the duvet to reveal a huge patch of blood, its dark crimson colour standing out amongst the white of the sheets.

"What is this, a fucking joke?" Paul was obviously not pleased about it, his hands firmly on his hips.

Ginny shook her head, not believing for one second that they could be capable of this, "They wouldn't do anything like this."

Paul switched on the torch he'd picked up on his way up the stairs, shining it around the room to check if there was anything else out of the ordinary. Fortunately there wasn't.

"Come on, Ginny." Paul replied, leaving the room en route back downstairs.

"Wait for me," Ginny called, following him out quickly onto the landing, not once looking back. As they stepped back down the stairs slowly, they both noticed that the living room's light was now out, shrouding it in a veil of darkness. Paul noticed that as he leant over the banister he could just see the light coming from the kitchen.

"Kitchen light's still on." He informed, "Must…must be the main fuse again."

"Paul, what's going on here?"

"Nothing." He said just a little too quickly but with enough emphasis to keep Ginny calm. To say in one word that everything was okay, that this was just one major practical joke and they'll all be laughing about it when the morning comes.

As they reached the bottom, Paul split off one way, heading into the other room across from the living room, while Ginny turned into the living room, still feeling the heat from the burning fire whilst taking a peek out of the window. She couldn't see anybody outside. The cabins were dark, the trees were still and there seemed to be no wind in the air. Everything just looked so _quiet_ and _motionless_, it was actually starting to scare her. (CH CH CH AH AH AH)

"Where is everybody?"

Paul had ventured further into the other room by then, seeming to be another living room filled with two large sofas, cream in colour, several bookcases scattered around the place, and large, rectangle windows that stood vertically around the room, with long, criss-cross patterned curtains draped over them. With her heels tapping along the wooden floor, Ginny made her way into the room, a slight chill in the air, a feeling one got when they felt like they were being watched or an unknown presence had entered the room without you knowing it.

Hugging herself to keep herself warm something caught the corner of her eye as she stared at Paul, who was trying to get the table lamp to work. It was almost shaped like a person; arms, legs, hands, but its head was covered by something purely white. Turning slightly to see if she was just seeing things, she quickly found out that she wasn't.

It was clear to her that it was a man; seeming to be clearly over six feet, with big arms like tree trunks and legs, likewise. She couldn't see who it was because the white that was covering his head was, in fact, a pillowcase. Nevertheless, what scared Ginny the most was that he was gripping the spear that Ted had used in his and Paul's prank to scare them last night and was now slowly advancing on Paul, who had no idea that he was in the room.

"Paul, there someone in this fucking room!" Ginny warned, just in time to be exact as Paul turned to avoid the intruder's stab to his stomach, the spear goring the wall instead.

Thus the grappling commenced, Paul recalling his athletic skills as a quarterback to wrestle whoever was trying to take him down. However it was clear to him, and Ginny, that this guy was taller, broader and a lot stronger than Paul but he wasn't going to go down so easily.

In the meantime, Ginny was backing away slowly, not having a clue what she should do. She knew that she had to help him somehow, but they was nothing in the room that could hurt the brute, let alone take him down. All she could do was step back slowly and watch as the two men brawled with each other; Paul swinging with his rights and his lefts before he was abruptly flipped over onto this back.

The other guy was straddling Paul now, rump on his chest, as his large hands wrapped themselves around Paul's neck and automatically started to squeeze, cutting off Paul's necessity to breathe. After a few, painstakingly long moments, everything seemed to stop. All was now quiet in the room except for Ginny's heavy breathing and heart pounding hard against her chest.

"Paul?" No answer. "Paul!" Ginny called a little louder but screamed, her hands over her mouth, as the hulking figure stood up, towering over her even though he was a few feet away.

She revolved abruptly on the balls of her feet, immediately running for the door behind her and slamming it shut. She found herself in the downstairs toilet, it with its light still on. She bolted it locked, holding onto the doorknob so if he tried to open it, she could at least _try _to stop him from doing so.

She knew she wouldn't have a chance, not against someone like himself. Very tall and seemingly very strong. She needed a plan of escape when she suddenly thought of Paul. Was he dead? Still alive in that room with that _psycho_? She couldn't think. For now she needed to get to a phone. A working phone, which happened to be in Paul's office on the other side of the camp, right next to their cabin to be exact. She needed to call for help.

With her hand still gripping the doorknob tight Ginny looked around and immediately saw her escape route. The only window in the room was partly open, and she could easily escape through it if she could just reach it without alerting Paul's attacker to her presence. She thought instantly that it was _now or never_ so she inched away from the door, staring at it whilst looking back at the window, just to make sure he wasn't standing out there waiting for her. Just as she was about to reach out and pull the window up, a large arm smashed through it in an attempt to grab Ginny. It didn't, missing her by just mere inches as she screamed, turning back around to unbolt the door, running out through the darkness and in the direction of the light.

Closing and locking the door behind her, she found herself in the kitchen this time, brightly lit and a window on the other side of it. Stepping back away from the door, having the slightest dread that any second now he was going to be pounding on it, Ginny noticed the assortment of kitchen knives hanging on their rack above the cooker and immediately grabbed for one. She was already trying to clamber up onto the sink in order to open the window when she heard the doorknob turning both sides rather frantically, the guy on the opposite side testing it to see whether it was locked or not. He'd got his answer.

_But it could be Paul_, she told herself, climbing down from the sink as slowly and as quietly as possible, so as not to alert him of her presence if it happened to be Paul's attacker.

Leaning her side against the wall beside the door, knife tightly in both hands, Ginny waited for something to tell her that it was Paul behind that door and not the other. There was silence. If it had been Paul, he would've said something to notify her that it was actually him. The handle turned slowly to the right, and then the left, then it revolved frantically from side-to-side, notifying Ginny that it wasn't Paul on the other side of that door.

Then something was rammed through the door, making a nice enough hole in the middle of it. It was a pitchfork! The attacker had grabbed himself a pitchfork and was now pursuing her with it. Ginny screamed out again, mindlessly dropping the knife as she turned on the spot and instinctively ran for the only other door in the room. Wanting just to get the hell out of there.

Pulling the door open Ginny shrieked and jumped back, narrowly escaping getting squashed by Sandra's naked corpse as it landed on the tiled floor with a hard thud. Ginny automatically raised a hand over her mouth, trying to keep the feeling of vomiting at bay, her eyes widened as they stared at the gaping hole in Sandra's back, her blood _literally_ covering her entire body.

_Oh my God!_ Her mind's voice exclaimed as Ginny mechanically returned to the sink, climbing up it and pushing her way through the small window, slipping out and landing hard on her ass, the wet mud squelching beneath her.

"Ah!" She let out in a short gasp, using all of her adrenaline to push herself onto her feet, running up the small hill and seeing the most wonderful sight…the red paint of her car.


	15. Chapter Thirteen

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the extremely long delay on this story but I've been busy with my other projects and what with Christmas and New Year's, so you know where I'm going with this! Hope you like this chapter, I'm quite proud of it if I do say so myself and the next one should be up shortly. Like before, if I get enough hits for this story, I shall begin writing up my version of Part 3, one of my favourites in the long-running series! C ya all later!**

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**Chapter Thirteen**

The rain had made the ground muddy and slippery, making it hard for Ginny to run fast up the hill, but once she'd reached her car, she opened the driver's side door, climbed in and locked all the doors once she was safely inside.

"Keys! Keys! Oh god please!" Ginny cried, fumbling into her pockets and finding that they weren't in there. "Shit! Goddamn it!" She banged her palms hard on the steering wheel and looked up, suddenly remembering that she'd tucked them inside the sun-visor above. Pulling it down her car keys fell right onto her lap and she cried out a exultant "Yes!" before shoving it into the ignition and turning it.

Unfortunately, the car spluttered for a few moments, stalled and then died. Ginny's mouth was agape. _What the hell?_ She turned the key again, but it produced the same results. The car spluttered, stalled and then died again.

"No, goddamn it, NO!" Ginny cried, doing it again but this time nothing happened when she turned the key. She exclaimed loudly, banging on the steering wheel a few times before her eyes focused on something in the distance. Something emerging from the darkness, the shadows surrounding the lodge, the cabins, the trees.

Then she saw it. White bobbing up and down in mid-air, and her eyes instantly widened as she realized what it was. It was HIM. The white pillowcase that he wore over his head to conceal his identity. He was walking in her direction, axe tightly gripping in his large hands. Forgetting about her "dead" car Ginny slipped into the space underneath the steering wheel and held her hands over her mouth, silencing her breaths so as not to give away her position, if she hadn't already.

She could hear his footsteps pounding against the pebbled road, getting louder and louder as they got closer to her car, Ginny holding her breath once he'd stopped right outside the driver's side door. The only way she could tell that he was still out there was the sound of his haggard breathing as he searched around for her. Then there was complete and utter silence. She could hear nothing, just the gentle breeze of the wind caressing the exterior of her car. For a split second she thought he'd left, that she was successful in eluding him. That thought quickly passed as the sound of smashing glass resonated loudly in the quietness, seeing the bevelled blade of the axe had smashed the car window.

Ginny let out a high-pitched scream as she saw his hand reach in through the smashed window, intent in unlocking the door from the inside. With nothing to help her fend him off, Ginny did the next best thing she could think of; she leant forward and sunk her teeth into the hand he was using to try and unlock the door. She heard his muffled cry behind the pillowcase and once she'd let go, he pulled his hand back through, shaking it as though it'll ease the sharp pain a little.

Seeing as he was close to the door, Ginny immediately unlocked and open it abruptly, hitting her attacker square in the mid-section, causing him to fall onto his back, giving Ginny a short window for her to escape. Wasting no time she slid out through the driver's seat and scurried away from the car, the killer, in the direction of Ted and Mark's cabin, located beyond where the pebbled road stopped. If she could get to Ted, somehow get him on his feet and perhaps a little "alert" , then they could get to Paul's office on the other side of the camp and call for help.

Problem was, how was she going to get there alongside an intoxicated Ted who could barely walk, let alone see where he was going?

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Having reached Ted's cabin within a few minutes, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed, Ginny pushed herself through the door and near enough fell right flat on her face. Having someone chasing you who was hellbent on taking your life would do that to you! Locking it behind her, Ginny took one last look through the netted curtain before turning and heading into the bedroom where they'd left Ted earlier.

Like before, Ted hadn't budged an inch but thankfully Ginny could hear him breathing, well snoring more like, as she stood by the side of the bed and leaned in, "Ted? Ted, wake up." She replied in a soft voice, not wanting to give away her position, but it seemed pretty obvious to her that he knew where she'd be. She just had that gut feeling that all women seemed to possess. Not having the time to listen to him moan, mumble, or tell her "_Just another 5 minutes_", Ginny rushed into the bathroom, grabbed the plastic cup on the sink that held the boys' toothbrushes and filled it to the brim in cold, well, _ice_-cold water. When it was full she went back into the bedroom, made sure that she was facing Ted and threw the water over his face.

The scene that transpired afterwards would've definitely won the award for "Best Comedic Act", if ever there was one. Ted's voice erupted into an array of high-pitch squealing and mouthing off every insult from the "swearing" dictionary. While he was still mouthing, Ginny could tell that even though he was still drunk, he was also a little sober.

_That's good enough for me_, she thought as she pulled him up so he was sitting, placing a finger over his lips in an attempt to quiet him. It worked to a certain extent, "Listen Ted, I know you're a little out of it and are probably having a hard time concentrating on what I'm saying but please, listen...someone is trying to kill me. He's already killed Sandra and I think he's killed Paul too."

With his brain feeling like the froth on top of a pint of lager, Ted tried to fathom what Ginny was trying to tell him, "Wait, wait, wait...you're saying that someone's trying to kill you? And that he's already killed Sandra and Paul? What about the others? Chantelle? Jeff? Vicki?" He asked, placing a hand on his head as though it would stop the repetitious thumping. No such luck.

Ginny shook her head frantically, "I don't know. I haven't seen any of them. Could they be...?"

Ted didn't notice it a few seconds ago, what with the pounding headache and the aching feeling to vomit right there and then, but there was a slight slash of red across Ginny's top, vertically, and he knew right there that it didn't belong to her.

"Ginny, is that...bl...blood on you?" He stuttered, pointing to the spot on Ginny's top where the red slash had been tinted.

Ginny looked down on herself, noticing the slash and instantly nodding her head, "Yes. Must've come off of Sandra when I found her. Look Ted, we've got no time and we need to get to Paul's office so we can call for help." She ordered, grabbing Ted by the hand and pulling him out of the bed. He may not like it but it was intended if she, and he for that matter, wanted to get out of there alive.

She hooked his arm around her neck and helped him move along into the small hallway, en route back to the only door that led into the cabin. She turned her head to face him, "You okay? If you feel the need to be sick, then do it. We got no time to waste getting you to a nearby toilet. Alright?"

Ted nodded, whispering the words, "Yeah, I'm fine," as he allowed her to lead him to the door, only stopping when she pulled the netted curtain across to make sure that the coast was still clear.

Ginny gripped the brass doorknob, its icy exterior conflicting with her warm palm, turning it ever so slowly and trying to be as quiet as she can so she wouldn't attract any attention. Specifically _his_ attention, anyway. Pulling the door back, Ginny gradually poked her head out, sighing mentally when she saw no-one in sight before nudging Ted to move along.

He grunted, his stomach growling as though on a disagreement of whether it wanted to be sick or needed nourishment. Ginny ignored it. If she wanted them to get to Paul's office without being hacked to death, they couldn't make any stops. If Ted was going to be sick, he'd have to do it whilst they were moving. Unfortunately, she didn't have to think about that for too long because no sooner did they step out onto the small, wooded porch, they were suddenly jumped by the hulking killer from above! The fucker had been waiting on the roof for them to leave! How he'd gotten up there and without making any sound whatsoever, Ginny didn't know. Yet he was, knocking them onto their fronts and wielding the same axe that he'd tried to hack her with back at her car.

Having no time to even react, let alone help poor Ted, the killer raised the axe over his head and slammed it right back down, the blade now embedded deep in Ted's back. Ted replied with a scream before his gurgling on his blood that had shot up from the sudden assault silenced him.

Ginny screamed out, crawling crab-like backward until her back hit the porch bannister. Knowing full well that she needed to get out of there, like now, she couldn't find the strength to pull her eyes away as the killer heaved Ted back up by the handle of the axe so he was on his knees. Ripping the tool from his back, the sound of bone cracking and blood splatting the porch caused Ginny to wince in disgust as she leisurely climbed to her feet, her eyes still fixated on Ted and the killer.

Then, as swiftly as he lifted the axe again, the hulk sliced it through the air vertically with all his unnatural strength, successful in cleaving Ted's head in two, blood spraying in all directions. It splashed across Ginny's blue jeans in dark crimson as well as dotting her boots and her white top in the macabre colour.

Now having the will to move, she didn't look back as she literally leaped over the porch bannister, landing on all fours before pushing herself back onto her feet, running with every ounce of strength in the direction of Paul's office. Back on the pebbled road, she followed it up past her "dead" car, past her cabin and onto the stretch of road that forked in the other direction; towards the office, the girls' cabins and the forest path.

Being the only one left alive, she had the obvious obligation to get to the phone and call for help before she ended up like her poor, unfortunate friends...


	16. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

She could see it up ahead...the exterior of Paul's office. The familiar-looking white-painted window frames that stood out, alongside the Moon, in the darkness of the night, the wind chime that dangled overhead on the gutter pipe, clanging gently in parallel with the slight breeze. Ginny could also see that its main light was on inside. Was whoever it was inside doing exactly what she'd planned to do back at the lodge? Was there a possibility that there could be another who'd eluded the killer's wrath and wanted to be rescued? The only way she was going to find out was to venture inside and pray to God that they'd already called the police and tell her that they were on their way.

When she got to one of the windows that was facing the girls' cabins at the foundation of the small hill, she peered inside and sighed in discontent as all the questions inside her head were responded with a simple answer; there was no-one in there except for the furniture. She _was _the only survivor which made her quickly turn her head in the direction that she'd been running from, remembering that she still needed to elude the killer, and that he'd been chasing her.

Nothing. Nothing but the woods, and the Moon, and the cabins. And the painfully eerie quiet. Had she eluded him? _No_, she thought, shaking her head to no-one in particular, _That would've been too easy_.

Thinking no more about it, Ginny hurried inside through the one door and locked it behind her, immediately flipping off the light as soon as she did. From across the room she could see the phone situated on the right corner of Paul's desk, the one closed to her, as though it were the Holy Grail itself. Taking her steps nice-and-slow, quiet, her hand outstretched in front of her, Ginny made her way over to the phone and immediately picked up the receiver. Punching in the numbers that everyone in the U.S knew off by heart, Ginny bounced impatiently on her feet, also tapping her left foot, as she waited for the other end to pick up.

It did after three rings, "Hello, this is the Sheriff's office. How can I help you?" The voice on the other end replied;soft, delicate, feminine. It sounded loud within the quiet confines of Paul's office and Ginny crossed her fingers that it wouldn't draw the killer's attention.

"Please, is the Sheriff in? I really need to talk with him, it's an emergency!" Ginny responded, talking as loudly as she could without trying to attract _too much _attention.

She could hear the woman shuffling on the other side, "He sure is. I'll put you through. One moment please."

Waiting patiently for the woman to transfer her to the Sheriff's phone, Ginny mentally breathed a sigh of relief when he answered with a cheery, "'Ello, Sheriff Rodgers speaking. How can I help?" His voice sounding like sweet harmony to her ears.

"Oh thank god! Please, Sheriff, you have to help me! Someone's trying to kill me! He's already killed some of my friends and now he's after me! You have to come quick or he'll kill me too!" Her body started to shiver slightly as a cold chill danced up along her spine, Ginny getting the feeling that _he_ was very close.

She could hear the Sheriff shuffling in the background, "Please relax ma'am, did you see the murderer?"

Ginny shook her head violently, not really caring that the Sheriff couldn't see her doing it, "No...he's wearing a pillow-case or something over his face to disguise himself. Please, just get down here, or he's going to kill me too!" She didn't care if she sounded hysterical, she just wanted to get out. Wouldn't anyone if they were in the position that she was in at that exact moment?

"Alright, I'm coming with back-up but in the meantime I want you to lock all the doors and windows. Find a good hiding place until we come get you. Where's your location?"

"The Counsellor Training Centre...," the line suddenly went dead and all Ginny could hear was the disconnected tone, putting the receiver back on its cradle as she knew now that it was obviously of no use to her.

It was official. The line had been cut and the killer was frighteningly near-by. She just hoped that he knew where she was and was on his way with the back-up he'd mentioned.

Frantically looking around her vicinity, Ginny couldn't see anything that she could use offensively. Just office equipment that wouldn't do hardly any damage against someone who was wielding an axe or whatever he'd picked up along the way. A few minutes later Ginny let out a sigh of relief when she'd found Paul's letter opener in the top left drawer in his desk, telling herself that it was better than nothing.

Her body jerked in reflex when someone, she couldn't tell who, punched their fist through the window to unlock the door from the inside, Ginny immediately dropped to her knees and crawled under the desk. Her back leant up against one side with her arms wrapped tightly around her bent knees, the table's front concealed her from sight, giving her the perfect cover.

She let out an ever-so slight gasp when she heard the door unlock, opening a few seconds later, its creaking now the only sound in the small hut. Next came the thundering steps, the ones she'll never forget as they scouted the room, obviously searching for his unfortunate victim.

_Just don't make any sudden movements Ginny_, she told herself, both hands covering her mouth to quieten her breathing, _Just...breathe...nice and...easy_. She would of if her heart was beating a thousand times a second, pounding so hard and fast against her chest that she thought it was going to burst out any second.

Then she saw it. A foot appearing into view from her right, followed by the other. They were pointed toward her, meaning that he was facing the door. Ginny held the letter opener up to her chest, tightening her grip on it willing the urge to plunge it right through one of the killer's feet. It was a good idea but then she would've blown her cover and she was too close that he would get her anyway, foot pinned to the floor or not.

So, she thought against it but still clutching it tightly against her chest just in case. He _might_ find her and then she'll have no choice. What seemed like forever but only a few minutes, the feet eventually disappeared, moving around the desk and to, what Ginny hoped, the front door. She heard him turn the doorknob, pull it open and step through it, hearing the door close behind him, his footsteps now like a distant memory.

She remained where she was for a few minutes, wanting to make sure that he'd really left the hut, calming her heart down before eventually venturing out from underneath the desk. As she pulled herself up via Paul's revolving chair, she turned around to face the door when an axe came chopping downwards, just missing her by mere inches.

The vigorous attack caused the axe to be embedded in the desk, Ginny screaming as she receded from it, her back hitting the window behind her. For a quick second, she saw her opportunity. While he was busy trying to pry the axe from the desk, she raced around the table en route to the front door. However, not anticipating that he'd go after her without his weapon, the killer lunged at her, tackling her to the ground.

She released another scream as they both wrestled for dominance, the killer having the obvious advantage, what with his size and height, flipping her onto her back, his enlarged hands around her neck. If he wasn't going to chop her up, he'd go to the next best substitute;strangulation.

Her skin immediately goose-pimpled at the touch of his ice-cold hands, her face otherwise burning hot as he persisted to squeeze the very life out of her. And he would do if she didn't act quickly. Gripping the letter opener strongly in her palm, Ginny raised it as high as she could and, with all of her strength, plunged it deep into his right thigh.

The killer let out his pain with a husky roar, releasing Ginny from his death grip, trying desperately to reach down and pull it out. Once he'd let go, Ginny began coughing, loving the sheer fact that she could breathe again before she reached for the nearby furniture, using it to help her climb to her feet.

On impulse, she hurried over to the desk and grabbed the phone, ripping its wire from its socket. Lifting it over her head she slammed the bulk of it on top of the killer's head, knocking him out for the count, if only for a few minutes. Not wanting to stick around to find out, Ginny headed for the front door and exited the hut, using its side for leverage as she slowly tread alongside it, catching her breath as the scuffle she'd just been in left her remotely breathless.

However, she couldn't have her moment to recuperate because, as soon as the soles of her high-heeled boots touched the path that would either lead her back to the lodge or into the forest, a loud clatter of wood and glass erupted behind her. Whipping round, Ginny screamed out as she saw the hulking killer standing right next to where the door should be, as though their recent bout didn't even phase him. Though she did see his blood painting the one leg of his trousers in dark crimson.

Without giving it a moment's thought, Ginny ran in the opposite direction that she wanted; the direction which led her into the dark forest, the killer limped mightily after her, the minor injury not even a bother to him. The advantage may belong to her but he knew this forest like the back of his hand. It was only a matter of time before he took her life, like all the others he'd taken this very night...


	17. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

He wouldn't have woken up any earlier if it wasn't for the constant pounding in his head caused by that maniac who was wearing a pillowcase over his head to conceal his identity. _It was a pillowcase, wasn't it?_ Paul asked himself as he slowly climbed to his feet, thanks to the wall he was lying next to. The thought soon left his mind when he remembered that Ginny was still out there, and that he needed to get to her before that psycho did, if he hasn't already. Paul hoped against hope that he hadn't.

Heading toward the only light in the next room, Paul found himself in the kitchen, his eyes noticed that the small window over the sink was wide open and that a knife lay on the floor nearest the door. However, what disturbed him the most was Sandra's body, skin as pale as snow, a gaping hole in her back and covered in her blood. She was lying face-down, a good thing for Paul because he didn't want to look into those lifeless eyes of hers and feel the guilt about her unfortunate demise, but he felt it anyway. If he hadn't had organized this counselling course, then Sandra would still be alive.

He covered his mouth with his hand, fighting the urge to not vomit right there and then, instead making his way over to the sink, just in case he did. After taking a few deep breaths from the fresh air coming in through the wide-open window, the sight of poor Sandra's body made him suddenly think about the others. Were they dead too? It would've explained the awful quietness that filled the entire lodge, magnifying the sounds of the floorboards as they creaked, the rustling of the trees outside as they swayed with the breeze of the wind.

_No time to think about it now_, Paul told himself, passing Sandra's body as he exited the kitchen and headed straight for the door, _Gotta find Ginny! Make sure that she's okay! Not in any way hurt by that...psychopath!_

Now a man on the mission, Paul dashed across the porch, his mind half on the urge to find Ginny, the other half in making sure not to bump into that _maniac _again! Leaping over the small set of wooden steps with ease, he looked up the small hill that led up to the pebbled road to see that Ginny's car was still parked where she'd left it when they'd returned from the bar. The Volkswagen beetle's red exterior acting like a beacon, guiding him toward it, clambering up the hill on his hands and feet, reaching the top in no time at all.

"Ginny! Ginny!" Paul called in a hushed tone once he reached the passenger's side, but was only greeted by the sight of the smashed window on the driver's side and glass shards of all shapes and sizes scattered on the seat and floor of the car.

Spinning around slowly three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, Paul looked in all directions to see where Ginny could've run to; the cabins, the lake but his answer came in the form of a shriek coming in the direction of his office. He knew who that belonged to in a heartbeat..._Ginny's!_

"Ginny," he gasped, running immediately in the office's direction, intent in saving her from whatever that psychopath was going to do to her. He dread to think as he ran as fast as he could, still a little woozy from his fight earlier on. When he saw his office's exterior, he saw that the lights were out and showed no sign of anyone inside. As he approached from the side, he pressed his back up against the wall, ready to pounce on whoever was going to occur around the corner and jumped out when his gut told him to. No-one there. What greeted him though was what was left of the front door, chunks of wood and glass shards in shapes similar to what he'd found back at Ginny's car.

Poking his head through the archway without a door, Paul called out in a hushed tone, "Ginny?" Just to make sure. Inside he could see that the phone was out of commission, dismantled on the floor, bits lay everywhere. _Ginny must have fought him off with it_, Paul thought as he heard her voice again, screaming out somewhere behind him, "Help! Someone help me!"

With his heart feeling a little lighter at the fact that he knew Ginny was still alive, it didn't however stop it from pounding so hard at the thought that the guy was still following her, intent on ending her like Sandra and probably the others. He didn't know of their fate but he gathered as much seeing as he hadn't seen any of them since he'd arrived back from the bar with Ginny, Ted and Chantelle.

Looking around the office for anything he can use offensively, he found it in the shape of the axe that was left embedded in his desk, his mind fathoming what the killer had intended to do with it. Gripping it with both hands Paul easily pulled it out, hearing the wood crack as he did, and stormed out of the hut, rescuing his 'damsel in distress' from the evil villain the only thing now on his mind...

* * *

She didn't know how long she'd been running for...maybe only minutes. Possibly hours even. She must've been running for quite some time as her lungs were burning fit to burst, breathing in carbon dioxide instead of oxygen and her skin felt hot, flushed. Ginny had called out for help but judging by the obvious fact that she was the only one left and the only neighbours close enough were the ones who lived 8 miles away, no help was coming.

Pushing through branches only persisted in having their sharp points scratch at her face and anywhere else that exposed skin, leaving behind lines of red where they attacked her, as well as tear at her clothes as Ginny fought with every breath she had left to keep a good distance away from that psychopath. She felt sorry for what happened to Sandra, to Ted, to the others but she was determined to not end up like them.

Completely fatigued now, heart pounding so hard she couldn't think straight, Ginny saw a tree that had a wide trunk, wide enough for her to hide behind and enough cover from the branches and bushes to conceal her from sight, pushing her way through more foliage to get around it.

Leaning up against it and letting out a long sigh, Ginny took the opportunity to take in a couple of deep breaths, filling her lungs with delicious oxygen. Not being able to hold it in much longer, she covered her face with her hands and starting sobbing into them, for the unfortunate death of her friends and her wonderful lover, Paul. Her eyes burned with the tears she was shedding, tasting the salty fluid on her lips, her mind replaying how Paul so valiantly fought the killer but sadly ended up like the rest of _his _victims.

_What was that?_ She immediately stopped crying once her ears had picked up the noise, the sound of hurried feet. _His feet!_ She thought as she stood up from her sitting position, looking around to find anything to use against the killer she couldn't seem to elude. Luckily, a thick branch the size and width of a baseball bat lay in front of her feet, finding it very sturdy as she held it within her palms. Gripping it with both hands at one end, Ginny edged herself to the edge of the trunk, but not too much to blow her cover, she waited for the footsteps to come closer before she'd unleash her attack.

_1...2...3!_ The killer was right beside her, she took her chance and swung the branch so hard that it struck him in the stomach, causing him to keel over. She was about to whack him hard again, this time around the back of his head when she saw that it was actually –

"Paul!? Is that you?" She immediately dropped the branch, kneeling down beside him to help him to his feet, apologizing countless times, "God, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"

Paul smiled, in a time like this he smiled, nodding his head, "No, I'm alright...thankfully. You know you pack quite a wallop!" He said, rubbing his mid-section which he knew would turn into a whopping great bruise later. He didn't mind though. At least he was with Ginny now and knew that she was safe and unharmed.

"Oh Paul, I thought you were dead...I thought _he'd_ killed you..."

"Hey, hey. Now let's have none of that, okay? Apart from the wallop you gave my abs, I'm perfectly alright. I'm still here, see?" His voice was soothing, the back of his hand barely touching her cheek as he caressed it. Ginny leaned in against his touch, eyes closed as a lonely tear trickled down, quickly wiped away with the flat of his thumb.

Once he'd pulled his hand away, Ginny's eyes were fixed on the axe gripped tightly inside one of his fists, Ted's blood still caked on its blade, images flashing before her eyes of his violent death and her recent bout with the killer back in Paul's office. She winced, shook them away and looked in the opposite direction, knowing that they should get going if they wanted to elude the killer.

"Ginny?" Paul noticed her grimace, grabbing her shoulder softly with one hand, keeping the axe down by his side, turning her so she was facing him. She could see the concern on his face as he asked softly, "Ginny? Are _you _okay?"

Not wanting to get into it now, Ginny nodded her head, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine but we really need to get going," she said, taking Paul by the hand and pulling him in the direction of where she was originally going, along the dirt path that was swallowed up by the surrounding darkness the further away it got. The Moon's light barely shining through the heavily-leaved trees, giving the hulking killer the perfect cover to pursue his _prey_ without being seen...


	18. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

Seeing as the dirt path had ended quite a way back, Ginny and Paul had to revert to pushing past branches and climbing over mossy logs until they eventually came to a large opening in the trees. Beyond it, they could see a number of huts and cabins, similar to the ones back at the Counsellor Training Centre, but otherwise very different. For one thing they were disused, their wooden exterior covered in moss and rotten after years of abandonment and the occasional, harsh weather conditions that hit the area. Somewhere to their left, they could hear the gentle splashing of waves above the water, both turning to see the Moon's reflection glinting on the lake's motionless surface. They knew where they were without even saying it out loud.

_Camp Crystal Lake_.

As they moved slowly through the "ghost camp", hand in hand, something caught Ginny's eye, who turned to face in its direction, wanting to see what had caught her undivided attention. It was coming from a small building that was built on its own , away from the others, but what made it look different was the fact that its front door was coloured in red. Even though it was in the same condition as everything else, it still looked brand new to her.

However, it wasn't that which had distracted her. It was what was beyond it that had peaked her interest.

"Paul, take a look at that." Ginny pointed in the direction of one of the windows, himself seeing what had attracted his girlfriend's attention. Something was glowing inside the small cabin, like a lonesome firefly dancing in the night sky, and when they reached the glassless window, they could see that it was a lonely candle, perched on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Its light flicking in parallel with the wind, causing all kinds of shadows within.

"What do you suppose it means, Paul? Do you think someone's living in there?" Ginny asked, taking a glimpse at him and saw that he was just as stunned as she was at what they were witnessing.

"I don't know but we'd better keep moving. No-one in there's going to help us...come on," Paul ushered, pulling Ginny along by her hand, she glancing back at the candle, wondering who could've lit it.

They couldn't have moved more than a few steps away from the cabin when Ginny was grabbed abruptly by her right upper arm, before being thrown forcefully to the ground, landing on her side, hard. _That was going to leave a mark in the morning_. She had landed right beside the door that led into the abandoned cabin with the lit candle inside.

Looking up she gazed with wide, glazy eyes and knew instantly that it was _him_! She couldn't mistake the huge bulk of his body and the white pillowcase covering his entire head. _How the fuck did he get here so fast and how did he do it without making a sound?! _Ginny asked herself but her mind was soon back on Paul who was lifted off the ground by his throat, the killer intending to crush it with his bare hand.

Ginny didn't have much time to react. Once she'd gotten to her feet using the doorknob as leverage, she was surprised to hear the killer grunting in pain, falling onto his knees. It seemed to her that, in his last attempt to escape the killer's grasp, Paul had kicked him hard between his legs as a last resort.

Straight afterward, before the killer had a chance to do anything, Paul pulled the axe in his hand back and socked him hard in the face with the flat of its blade. To him, it felt like he'd just whacked it against a brick wall, but he was successful in knocking the guy out. If only for a few minutes…if that. Paul then took some much needed breaths for the oxygen to fill his lungs, the organs burning because of the lack of it.

Shaking his hand in a bid to ease the pain that was now causing it to throb, a bruise was inevitable come the morning, Paul turned to face Ginny and grabbed her hand again, "Come on, in here! Quickly!" He opened the door for her, pushing her gently inside before shutting it behind him.

Unfortunately for them, the door had no lock on it and they couldn't barricade it because it opened outwards. Paul raised his hands to shoulder-level before slamming them back down again in an act of rage, "Fuck!" He swore, his sudden outburst causing Ginny's body to jump, pimping her skin with goose-bumps.

"What are we going to do, Paul?" Ginny asked, frightened. She'd wrapped her arms around her chest, shivering at the sudden cold that chilled up her spine. The thought that they were going to be savagely murdered in this cabin creeping not far away in her mind.

Her question would be left unanswered because as soon as it past her lips, the window to their right, or what was left of it, suddenly exploded in a shower of broken glass and splintered laths of wood.

They shielded their faces with their arms, protecting their eyes from the flying debris but with Ginny being closer to it, the sudden draught caused her to double backwards. Nevertheless, what she didn't know or couldn't see as the draught had blown out the only light source in the room, was the dark hole in the floorboards that was made when Dep. Winslow fell right through it whilst trying to leave the cabin hours earlier.

"Ginny! Watch out!" Paul called, but he was too late. She was stumbling too fast and before they both knew it, she'd stepped too far and fell backward right into the dark pit. Her high-pitched scream seemed to echo, she descending into nothingness…

* * *

Thankfully, the descent wasn't deep enough to cause her any permanent damage but when Ginny's back slammed against the dirt floor, it knocked the wind out of her. The pain throbbed in her upper back, coughing as she tried to breathe in the air she suddenly lost in the fall. She pushed herself up onto her rump, rubbing the back of her head where it was slightly thumping but not as badly as her back.

Where was she? Was she really underneath the cabin? Ginny glanced around her surroundings, finding herself to be in a darkened tunnel, only lit by the lanterns that were hung up along one side. Using the wall for leverage, Ginny stood up, a quick wave of light-headedness washed over her, but soon disappeared once it emerged.

Looking up, she couldn't see anything. It was just as dark as it was down there, except for the low light coming from the lanterns. _Should I call Paul? Is he alright? Is he…,_ Ginny wondered, settling on her decision, "Paul!"

Silence. It was what she was afraid of…all sorts of thoughts began to race through her mind, _Was Paul hurt? Unconscious? Dead…?_ But they were silenced by the sudden sound of furniture being scraped across the decayed floorboards before a loud crash followed afterward.

"Paul! Paul, are you there!" Ginny cried out, stepping away so she wasn't right underneath the hole she'd fallen through. She didn't stop until her back hit the tunnel wall as it turned an exact 90 corner.

Silence again. "Paul!" Her voice was shaky, terrified at the fact that she didn't know what condition her boyfriend was in, "Paul, answer me!" She whispered, not really hearing it because her heart was pounding as hard and as fast as a racehorse's.

Although she didn't have time to listen to it because a few seconds later, the killer had jumped in after her and was now standing right underneath the hole, the light from the nearby lantern giving him a frightening, shadowy appearance.

Ginny let out another scream, it seeming to echo throughout the claustrophobic tunnel, she ran to her right, along the tunnel leading away from the towering killer who'd acquired Paul's axe and was now holding it tightly in one hand. Following the lanterns, Ginny found they were leading her down a long passageway, which had no other turns whatsoever, and saw a wooden door at the end of it.

Wasting no time in opening it, she hurried inside, and closed it again, cursing loudly when she quickly discovered that it didn't have a doorknob or nothing to lock it with. Now with her heart beating even faster, if that was at all possible because it felt to her like it was about to pop right out of her chest, she only had scant seconds to look for a place to hide or something to use as a weapon when her foot knocked into something as she backed away from the door.

Spinning on her heels to see what it was, her eyes instantly widened in disbelief, her hands automatically covering her mouth as she felt the gorge rise in her throat.

For only a foot away from her very feet, bloodied, mutilated corpses of her friends lay around a quaint little table situated directly opposite her, it seeming to be somewhat out of place in a room such as this. Ginny's shock-filled eyes picked out Deputy Winslow and Terri among the dead until they become aware of what was placed on top of the small "innocent-looking" table.

It was a decapitated head of what Ginny thought to be of a woman, its slight wisps of grey hair on the top and the small composition of the skull giving it away but what terrified her the most was the realization of where she actually was…

…She was in Jason Voorhees' hideaway, who was on the other side of the handle-less door with one thing on his mind, axe still clenched in his enlarged hand…

…To finish what he'd started when they all stepped foot in Crystal Lake, deciding to end his 'reign of terror' with a swansong that the newspapers and tabloids will hail as 'the most horrific scene of slaughter the world will ever know and shall never forget'…


	19. Chapter Seventeen

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay on this story. I've been hard at work writing up for my other projects, namely _Supernatural, Smallville_ and my Marvel stories. It's now safe to say that I shall be continuing with this story, as it only has a few chapters to go now, and it'll be finished. Also, I'd like to announce that I've got enough views from this story that I'm already prepping up the third installment in my "re-imagining" series and it should be up soon as soon as I've done with _Friday the 13th II_! Chow for now! b(^-^)d**

* * *

******

Chapter Seventeen

In the short time that it took for Jason Voorhees to get through that door, Ginny had leaned over, viciously pulled out the hammer that was lodged in Dep. Winslow's skull, it letting out a sickening crack as she did, and spun back round wielding it like her life depended on it…which it obviously did. The deadly silence was deafening before the hulk that was Jason booted the door, with the intent to savagely maim Ginny with the axe in his hands, as it banged against the wall so hard she thought it might come off its hinges.

The sudden assault caused Ginny to scream out, staggering backwards until her feet hit the piled bodies, nearly tumbling over them before regaining her equilibrium. Jason swung the axe horizontally, slicing the air with its velocity, Ginny leaning back to avoid it, missing her by mere inches. He lifted the axe over his head, not halting for a second as he sliced the axe vertically this time, missing Ginny again and embedding the axe's blade into the dry dirt.

This gave Ginny the opportunity she needed. Raising the hammer up high, she slammed it back down with all her strength, hitting the back of Jason's hand and hearing the loud crack as it made contact. Jason let out a pain-filled cry, letting go of the axe and nursing his assaulted hand with the other. Still holding onto the hammer, Ginny made a run for the battered door, but hitting Jason square on the back of the hand wasn't going to keep him at bay who, with his uninjured hand, grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her back, hard.

This time she tumbled over the dead bodies, screaming out as she fell onto her back on top of them, the blood wiping itself onto her once, perfectly-clean clothes, the putrid stench that surrounded them overwhelming her senses, making her physically nauseous. Looking up, her eyes widened as they spotted the axe swinging down upon her yet again but she managed to push herself backwards, causing the blade to entrench itself into Terri's head instead, blood spurting everywhere. The dark crimson splattered onto Ginny's face and clothes, who retched as she crawled backward until she couldn't move no more, her back hitting the wall.

She was running out of chances, and space to move as she could only watch as Jason heaved the axe out of Terri's head, afterward treading ever closer to her, her fate almost inevitable but something caught her eye which gave her a slight glimmer of hope in her bid to escape.

Propped up against the wall, in a similar fashion as Ginny currently was, sat a decaying corpse which appeared to have been there a lot longer than the others. Embedded in the back of its head, Ginny saw what appeared to be an ice-pick or a kitchen utensil of some sort, reaching out and pulling on it until it was out of the corpse's head, looking away when maggots and other disgusting things oozed out as well. _Ugh! Disgusting!_

Eyes back on Jason, she observed him taking up the axe once more and, before he could strike her down, Ginny gripped the weapon tightly in her palm and thrust it vigorously into his gut. Still holding on, she pushed him back, back until he hit the wall, letting go of it once she was satisfied that it was in as far as it would go. Not wasting time just standing around and waiting for him to pull it out, Ginny side-stepped and darted out of the room through the open door back into the dimly-lit tunnel.

In no time at all, she'd reached the hole she'd fallen through earlier, looking up to see the moonlight shining dimly in the cabin above. Looking back in the direction she'd just come from, there was no sound of thundering footsteps so she was alright, for the moment.

"Paul? Paul, are you okay?!" Ginny exclaimed, her voice echoing throughout the lonely tunnel, knowing that if he didn't hear her then, that it meant that he was probably…

DUM! DUM! DUM! There they were. The thundering footsteps belonging to one Jason Voorhees, and Ginny couldn't wait any longer to hear Paul's reply before the hulk would be upon her. Glancing in the other direction Ginny had no choice but to take it, having absolutely no idea where it could lead but what choice did she have? Following the dirt-covered walls and the dimly-lit lanterns, Ginny would turn back every so often to see if she was being pursued, but for the moment she wasn't. As the tunnel started to open up into another room, Ginny found it to be a lot bigger than the one that she was in moments ago and also noticed that it looked like Jason spent a lot of his time in here.

The ceiling was decorated with cold, black chains, looking like snakes hanging from the branch of a tree, some which dangled near enough to the floor, and there was a massive fan built into one of the dirt walls, obviously for air-conditioning reasons, giving the room a slight cool ambience. Taking a longer glance at her surroundings, the dank, dimly-lit room was filled with a variety of equipment you'd see in the back of a carpenter's shop or, more appropriately, at a blacksmith's. In the corner stood a stone wheel with a pedal underneath, which Ginny imagined was used to sharpen his…_tools_ as they were, and others that she didn't recognised.

Some distance behind her Ginny could hear him getting closer, feel the vibrations from his eloquent footsteps pulsating against her feet, and knew that if she didn't find a place to hide quickly, Jason was going to get her. So, with another swift scan of the room, Ginny saw her chance, took it and squeezed under the table that stood next to the sharpening wheel against the wall, perfectly covered by the darkness.

Now, all she had to do was watch, wait, pray that he didn't find her… and take the first opportunity she got in escaping this place of horror…

* * *

Up above back in the desolated cabin, which once gave shelter to camp counsellors, allowing them to relax on its velvety sofa and chairs by a blazing fire, play games at the table or cook food in its kitchen, Paul was awakened from his unconsciousness. Not by sheer will or by the shaking of another person in their bid to wake him, but by the sound of Ginny screaming for his help.

However, she sounded so far away, and her voice seemed to echo like she was in a cave or something. Gradually getting up, his face feeling like it'd been battered with a brick and his muscles aching terribly, waning his strength somewhat, he finally stood steadily on his feet, looking down at the dark hole where Ginny must've fallen into.

_Well, it can't be _too _deep if Ginny managed to survive her descent_, Paul thought, carefully sitting himself at the edge of the hole before lowering himself down, entering its obscurity with determination in his heart and a lot of vivacity to make sure he, and Ginny, left this place alive in one piece…

* * *

_Please don't let him find me! Please don't let him find me!_ Ginny's voice chanted inside her head as she lay under the table, blanketed by the darkness. Her breathing was muffled by her hands covering her mouth, sweat was beading down her face, dampening her clothes, making her itch. She didn't know how long she'd been lying there but it couldn't have been too long.

For the simple reason that, as soon as she'd crawled under the table, Jason had made his appearance, a machete now in his right hand…_where did he get that from?_…, his other hand pressing against the wound that Ginny had made when she stabbed him with the kitchen utensil. With no idea of where she was hiding, he immediately made for the table on the other side of the room, his boots treading loudly.

Placing the machete upon the table, Jason rummaged around, looking for something to heal the wound or, at least, stop the bleeding, coming up with nothing. He slammed his fist on the table in frustration before using it to grab the top of one of his sleeves and ripping it from its seam. A second later, he did the same to the other, Ginny not surprised to see that they were hiding bulging biceps that could be mistaken for footballs.

Using one of the sleeves as a makeshift bandage, he wrapped the other one around his waist, thankful that it was long enough, tightening it so that it'll at least slow down the bleeding. With his wound taken care of, his mind was now back on finding and taking care of the girl who had managed to elude him at every turn. He then cursed himself for allowing her to stab him. It wasn't a mortal wound, but it didn't stop it hurting like hell.

Retrieving his faithful machete, Jason stormed into one of two tunnels that were exactly parallel to the one he'd entered moments before. If she was trying to escape, she would've gone through one of them. He'd find her, even if it took him all night. _He'd find her!_

Meanwhile, still hiding underneath the table, Ginny wanted to make sure that Jason was truly gone, for now, before crawling back out, her legs almost cramping if she hadn't. She took a deep sigh of relief and was about to leave through the other tunnel when she heard the most wonderful sound coming from the tunnel that led to the "Room of Death"…

…Paul's whispered voice calling out for her…

"Ginny? Ginny, are you in here?" She could tell that he was trying to keep his voice down, but with his surroundings being surprisingly spacious, it unfortunately caused his voice to echo.

Ginny scurried over to the entrance to the tunnel and poked her head out, nearly jumping out of her skin when she almost bumped into Paul. Without saying any words, because they weren't really needed, they both wrapped their arms around each other, locked in a bear-hug, Ginny crying in happiness at the fact that he was alive.

"Oh god, Paul…I…I thought you were…dead," she whispered, caressing his cheek softly, noticing that he had a nice bruise there, coloured in dark green, blue and purple.

Paul smiled, but he knew that they didn't have much time to chat. The psychotic killer, who he knew by now was actually Jason Voorhees, would be coming back this way any second and they needed to get out of here if they had any chance of surviving this night.

"Oh thank God you're safe, Ginny. Come on…we've got no time to talk. We need to find a way out of here before he comes back." Paul informed, grabbing Ginny by the hand and leading her into the other tunnel that resided right next to the one that Jason had disappeared into just a few moments ago.

Now that they were reunited once again, Ginny felt safe…if only a little. Jason was still amongst them and, until he was either dead or they were far away from this awful place, she would never feel truly safe.


	20. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Once they thought they were quite a way from Jason, Paul and Ginny stopped, finding themselves to be at a "crossroads" in the tunnels…one leading left and the other right. Ginny bent over, hands on her knees as she took this respite to catch her breath, fill her lungs with needful air, feeling completely fatigued.

"Is there any way out…of this fucking place?" Ginny asked between breaths, sick to death of seeing the sight of dirt and the smelling the putrid stench of blood and death lingering in the air.

Paul looked both ways in the fork in the tunnels; one leading diagonally to the left and the other diagonally to the right. He had a inkling that if they went down the tunnel to their right, it'll probably lead them right into Jason, but if they went down the left, they could just end up at a dead-end and they'll really be in the shit. Hearing Ginny's voice, it roused him from his thinking and turned to see, really see that Ginny had blood splattered all over her top and face. Was she really wounded and he hadn't even noticed?

Right at her side with a comforting hand on her back, Paul asked with deep concern, "Ginny, you're bleeding. Is it -," but she managed to cut him off with a wave of her hand before he got himself worked up, "I'm fine, Paul. It's…it's not mine, but enough about worrying about me. We need to get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah you're right," Paul nodded, looking back to the fork in the tunnel, "But which way should we go?" He combed his fingers through his hair in frustration before finally coming to a decision, "I think we would be much safer taking the left. Come on," he added, stretching out his hand for Ginny to take.

She took it immediately, just wanting to be out of this "hellhole", but she had this horrible feeling that Jason wasn't far behind and when he eventually showed up, she might not be able to see the light of day again…

* * *

He knew these tunnels like the back of his hand. He should do, he's been living down here for almost 20 years. _They _don't know his tunnels, but they were going in the right direction to get out. He only had a few exits out of his tunnels which was pretty reasonable really when he didn't want any of his victims to get out and he knew where they were heading…he had a sort of "sixth" sense about these things. Something he'd picked up from his apparent "drowning" all those years ago.

With his sharpened machete in hand, Jason went in a different direction to where Ginny and Paul were heading. Knowing these tunnels like the back of his hand, he knew he'd be able to catch up to them in double the time.

* * *

They'd finally reached the end of the tunnel and, luckily, their escape route. A wooden ladder was propped up against the wall, leading up to the surface, but it was blocked off by a trapdoor. Paul climbed up first, make sure that they were no _surprises_ waiting for them up top while Ginny stood at the bottom. Pushing open the trapdoor, Paul popped his head out and found himself in a shed of some kind. Not filled with gardening tools or anything, but with a variety of equipment that dealt mostly with sports and boats. He then suddenly realized where they were.

They were back at the Counsellor Training Centre, in the storage shed down by the lake. He was sure of it. He'd only been in there once or twice, but he had quite a perceptive memory.

Climbing out from the hole, he urged Ginny to climb up, informing her that they were back at the training centre before closing the trapdoor behind her and looking around to find something to cover it with. So that Jason couldn't follow them up there.

"Ginny, help me with this, would you?" Paul asked his girlfriend, who was busy looking out of the window to make sure that Jason wasn't going to make an appearance without them knowing about it.

"Okay," she uttered simply, turning away from the window and assisted Paul in pulling out a desk, which was used to hold all kinds of tools and equipment within its drawers. Even with Paul's strength they were having difficulty pulling and pushing it along, but eventually they'd managed to situate it over the trapdoor.

There was no way in hell Jason was going to be coming up through there now.

"That should hold. There's no way he's getting through there now." Paul uttered with a sense of triumph in his voice.

Ginny didn't feel the same way as Paul, an awful feeling creeping up her spine, as she looked to the window, rubbing her arms as she felt the sudden chill in the air, "That's fine and dandy, but he's gonna have other exits out of those tunnels. Not just this one."

The triumphant expression plastered on Paul's face quickly disappeared and was replaced with a look of worry, "Ah, shit. You're right," he uttered, before taking Ginny's hand and moving instantly toward the door. "Then we need to get out of here before he finds us."

He'd wished he hadn't have said that when the very person he was mentioning unexpectedly jumped through the window, showering the two counsellors in pieces of wood and shards of glass.

Ginny's mouth opened, unleashing a high-pitch scream as some of the glass shards slash at her face, leaving behind thin cuts which start to bleed crimson instantly. This guy was relentless to say the least!

Running for the door, Ginny was about to reach for its handle, hand outstretched to grab it when she was suddenly yanked back by her hair! As Jason pulled her back, Ginny bending over backward and feeling as though her hair was about to be ripped out from its very roots, she stared up, eyes wide and glossy, to see him pulling back the machete he wielded with one hand, ready to behead her with one clean swipe.

"No! Nnnooo!" She screamed with all her might, her lungs practically burning, too frightened to even move when her eyes caught sight of an oar swinging toward Jason's head. Its flat side connected and hit Jason with an almighty thwack, disorientating him for a few seconds. Ginny's ears picked up the sound of Jason's machete clanging against the floorboards, standing upright as soon as he let go of her hair.

Turning around she saw Paul wielding the oar with both hands, pulling it over his head to hit Jason with it again. He nodded toward the door and shouted, "Run Ginny! Get out of here! I'll hold him off!" He went to hit Jason with the oar again, but the 6 foot 5 killer grabbed with one hand before booting him hard in the gut, sending Paul flying backward onto his front.

Ginny jumped back at the brutality of the attack, her back pressed against the wooded wall, her hands flat against it, trying to breath, but finding she had shortness of breath out of sheer fear as she watched helplessly as Jason treaded toward Paul, snapping the oar in half and tossing it to one side. His footsteps sounding so heavy, the floorboards creaking beneath them.

_I need to do something. I need to do something quick or he's going to kill Paul and me next! But what can I do against someone like Jason?_ Ginny though, her eyes scanning the shed to see anything she could use as a weapon.

Then she saw it.

The machete lying on the floor, completely abandoned by Jason whose attention was solely on Paul, picking him up by the throat with both hands, intention of strangling him to death clearly on his mind.

She only had a few seconds to act or Paul would be surely dead. She needed to make this count or this will all be for naught.

Pushing herself off the wall, Ginny scrambled for the machete, gripping its handle with two hands, before charging at Jason, screaming loudly, as she plunged it right through his abdomen. The blood spurted onto Paul's front, colouring his clothes in dark crimson, as Jason let out a hoarse grunt, letting go of Paul who held his throat, taking this time to breathe in air that Jason wanted to take away.

As he watched from his position on the floor, Jason looked down at the machete protruding from his stomach before Ginny pulled it back out, more blood pouring out as it caused him to go weak at the knees. He held the wound with one hand, the other he'd acquired from Ginny in the tunnels had already stopped bleeding, and abruptly dropped to his knees, the strength in them suddenly gone.

Before she gave him chance to do anything else, Ginny lifted the machete over her head and hacked it into his shoulder. Jason wheeled his head back, his one eye through the hole in the pillowcase looking up to the ceiling before rolling to the back of his head. His body falling back until it hit the floor…hard.

She found herself staring at Jason's unmoving body, unable to look away even though Paul was calling out to her. Calling her name.

"Ginny? Ginny? Ginny, are you okay?"

Paul's hand on her shoulder finally woke her from her gazing and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, her crying muffled against his shoulder, truly thankful that the nightmare was now over.

She felt like she'd been crying for hours, but once she'd stopped, she moved her face away from his shoulder, face flushed and damp from the crying and looked up at him, "It's over," she answered softly, "It's finally over."

Paul beamed her a smile, nodding to her words, "Yeah…let's get out of here. This place's starting to give me the creeps."

Ginny accompanied that notion with a small laugh, hugging Paul with the last of her strength before she collapsed into his arms, completely exhausted from everything that had happened this very night. With her arm draped around his neck, his around her waist, Paul used the remainder of his vigour to walk her out of the storage shed, leaving Jason's lifeless body behind for the authorities to handle once he'd called them back at the lodge.

* * *

Once they'd reached the lodge, heading inside, the fire had long died out in the living room, but the lights were still on as Paul helped Ginny settle on one of the sofas. He then headed straight for the phone, thanking God that it still had a dial-tone. Dialling in the number, Paul waited for a few seconds before it was picked up by a woman who introduced herself as Deputy Thomson.

While Paul was on the phone to the deputy, Ginny held herself in her arms, feeling slightly chilled even though she knew it was over. Suddenly, her ears picked up something that was indistinguishable at first, but got clearer as it carried on. It was a scratching sound and it was coming from the door they'd just come through. To Ginny, it sounded much like a cat when it clawed at the door for its owner to let them in after spending sometime outside, but no-one who'd stayed there had owned a cat, to her knowledge anyway.

Backing away toward the fireplace, Paul still on the phone in the background and oblivious to what was going on, Ginny took one of the pokers that was leant against it and gripped it tightly in one hand. As she headed toward the door, she thought about asking Paul to accompany her, but he was still on the phone to the deputy and they needed the police to get here as soon as possible. To take them away from this awful place.

With her free hand outstretched, Ginny turned the doorknob and opened it quickly, fire poker overhead ready to strike, only to be welcomed by nothing. She could've sworn she'd heard a scratching sound…until something whimpered down below and she bowed her head to see that it, and the scratching, belonged to Muffin, Terri's pet dog.

She'd completely forgotten about her, smiling as she picked the dog up into her arms, carefully stroking its soft, white fur and loving the attention that it was giving her as it licked her face.

"Aw, Muffin. It's nice to see you too."

Closing the door behind her with her heel, Ginny returned to the sofa, but just as she passed the window, it erupted in a cascade of glass as Jason, who was now unmasked and revealing his disfigured features, leapt through it, wrapping his powerful arms around her and attempting to pull her back outside.

Ginny set free a terrifying scream, watching as Paul dropped the phone and made a run for her before she succumbed to darkness…

* * *

Please leave me a review as I like to know what you all think of my "re-imagined" franchise and if so, PM me if you have any suggestions on future instalments. What would you like happen in them? Should I include the dreadful _Part V: a New Beginning_ and take it in a new direction after _Part IV: the Final Chapter_?

Please, I'd like to know. Anyways, chow for now and hope to hear from all you real soon. ;-)


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Nnnooo! Nnoo!" Ginny was screaming at the top of her lungs, thrashing her arms about as someone was trying to pin them down. She looked up to see Jason's deformed face looking down upon her, leering down at her as his hands inched ever closer to her neck, intending to strangle the very life out of her.

If she was going to die tonight, she was going to go out fighting. She just she was about to hit Jason with all that she was worth, she thought she heard Paul's voice calling out to her.

"Ginny? Ginny, you need to wake up!"

For a second, she looked around, but couldn't see him anywhere. Then she stared back at Jason and noticed that he was talking. However, instead of hearing his voice, she could hear Paul's instead.

"Please Ginny, wake up!"

Suddenly, as though by sheer force of will, Ginny's eyes open, _really _open, and they eventually settle on a worried-looking Paul, kneeling over her, eyes as wide as hers were. "Paul?" She asked, her mind trying to fathom whether this was a dream or reality. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers, the touch causing her skin to goose-pimple. The sound of his voice, soft, comforting as they whisper, "Ginny, thank God." His breath hot against her skin. Yeah, this was real.

Taking a good look of her surroundings, she quickly realized that she was back at the lodge, lying down on one of the sofas in the living room, fire still burning in the fireplace, its crackling the only other sound in the room. Strangely, the window that Jason had leapt through to get to her wasn't smashed to pieces, and Muffin was no-where to be seen.

"Paul? What happened?" She asked softly, the effort to do so seemed to drain her of her remaining vigour, feeling ever so exhausted, and she had good reason to be so.

"Well," Paul started, combing back her hair as it threatened to cover her eyes, "After the whole ordeal in the storage shed, you collapsed out of sheer exhaustion. Reasonable really, what with all the hell you've been through tonight." His voice was soft, soothing, made Ginny feel completely safe.

"You have too," she uttered, causing Paul to emit a small laugh, "Yeah, but I'd been knocked out through most of it." He then leant forward and kissed her square on the lips for a few seconds before pulling back, "Now get some rest. The police will be here soon, but we can deal with them when we get to the hospital. Okay?"

"You always know what's best for me, don't you Paul," she uttered softly with a smile before she was answered with a kiss, then blinked her eyes a couple of times before closing them, taking Paul's advice to mind.

While she drifted off to sleep, Paul stood up, making his way over to the fireplace, seeming to be hypnotized by its fiery glow. He should be resting as well, like Ginny, but after what they'd been through tonight, he was afraid to close his eyes. Afraid that they were wrong about Jason being dead and he'd come for them when they were at their most vulnerable. Yet, clearly he _was_ dead after sustaining injuries that Ginny had inflicted upon him with his own machete to save Paul's life. No one could've survived _that._

* * *

The next time Ginny opened her eyes, it about blinded her with pure, white light. It took her a minute or so for her eyes to adjust to it, squinting and blinking several times until her vision was restored. She soon enough realized that she was lying in a hospital bed. Also to her left she could see that she was hooked up to a heart monitor, hearing it bleep to a gentle beat, telling her that she was in good condition.

Looking to her right, she could see Paul in the chair beside her, his head resting on his forearms on the only space on the bed that wasn't occupied by her leg. He was sound asleep, the only sound she could hear was his soft breathing as he breathed in and out through this nose. He looked so peaceful…so beautiful when he was asleep that she'd almost wished she had her camera with her, but being in her current predicament, that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Reaching out, still feeling a little weak, Ginny softly placed her hand on top of Paul's head, her fingers carding through his brown curtains, hearing him murmur and seeing him leaning into the caress as he slowly awakened. He blinked his eyes open, wiping away the sleep before they finally set on her, a smile forming on his face, causing his dimples to come into effect.

"Hey there, beautiful." He uttered tenderly, his hand reaching out to grab Ginny's, holding it in both hands before lightly kissing her knuckles. "How are you feeling?"

Ginny sat up on the bed, feeling a little faint for a second, letting out a sigh that sounded to Paul like it was done out of relief, "All right, I guess. Just thankful that it's over." Her mind that flashed back to seeing Sandra's dead body in the kitchen, and the bodies Jason had stashed in his underground lair. The memories immediately caused her eyes to tear up, "Oh god, but the others…", however she couldn't continue as Paul had pulled her gently into his embrace, calming her with continual whispers of "It's okay" while his hand brushed down her hair.

They were soon interrupted by a man in white, who was clearly the doctor monitoring her condition, who was followed by a man dressed in a cream uniform, along with a leather jacket and a gold badge pinned to his left breast, obviously an officer wanting an interview with the two of them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is Sheriff Rodgers. He's come to ask you a few questions, if you are willing?" The doctor asked, Ginny remembering the name from last night, the one she'd spoken to on the phone before it was cut, as the Sheriff approached the bed, Paul taking his seat back on the chair beside it.

Sheriff Rodgers took off his hat, holding it against his chest as he asked, "I know that you should be resting, but I just want to get this over and done with so you can get back to it, okay?"

Ginny nodded, understanding what he wanted from her, turning her head slowly to Paul and asking softly, "Could you leave us for a minute?"

Paul smiled, kissing her tenderly on the forehead before answering, "Of course. I'll be waiting outside until you're finished." He stood up then from the chair, following the doctor out, hearing Rodgers reply, "I'm gonna need a statement from you too," with which Paul answered with a simple, "Alright."

Once they were alone, Rodgers placed his hat on the nearby table and folded his arms over his chest, a sigh escaping his lips as he was about to ask his first question, but Ginny beat him to it, "Is there anyone else alive? Was it just me and Paul left?" He could tell that there was general concern in the young woman's voice, and it made his heart weep at what he was about to reply.

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but…you are correct. We'd found no-one else alive. They were either…scattered around the Counsellor Training Centre or…found below in the tunnels. Again, I am truly sorry."

A tear trailed down one cheek, Ginny not even having the energy to wipe it away as she gathered herself. "Did you at least find his body?" She sniffed, referring to Jason Voorhees, the psychopathic killer who'd managed to savagely butcher almost everyone who attended the Counsellor Training course, except for those who stayed behind at the bar. They proved to be the lucky ones.

What the Sheriff was about to say next wasn't what Ginny wanted to hear, "I'm also sorry to inform that we didn't find the killer's body where your boyfriend told us it was. There was a helluva lot of blood, but there was no body."

Ginny's heart seemed to jump up into her throat, her skin turning cold, her eyes widening at this fact, "What!" She almost screamed it, launching herself upright, but she kept her voice below the level so as not to rouse any attention, "How can that be? He took one to the stomach, and one through the shoulder? When we left him, he wasn't moving! He was clearly dead!"

"Can you vouch for that, miss? Did you or your boyfriend check his pulse to make sure that he was dead?" He didn't mean for it to sound like he was being 'funny' with her or anything, but in situations that they were in last night, you'd have thought they would have, at least, done that.

She gazed back at him with her mouth agape, realization having struck her…hard. From what she could remember from last night, her world had turned black from sheer exhaustion after she'd attacked Jason, and he'd fallen flat on his face, presumably dead. She didn't know or even ask Paul if he'd checked if Jason was _really _dead, but surely no-one could've survived what she'd done to him, surely?

"On a lighter note, me and my men are doing our utmost best to find him. If he's lost that much blood, he can't have gotten too far." He then shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, turned his head to look toward the window, seeing the light shine through, barely able to look at it for more than a few seconds before his gaze was back on Ginny. The question he'd been wanting to ask before she'd intruded on the tip of his tongue, "Miss? You don't have to answer right the way if you don't want to, but I've got to know," he then inched closer, taking his position at the foot of the bed like he'd done before, "Did you get a good look at the killer? Can you remember anything that could help us further in nailing the bastard?"

Ginny laid back onto the bed, welcoming its softness as it soothed her aching muscles, if only a little, before shaking her head, "No, I didn't get a good look at him. He was wearing a disguise to cover his face, but…" she then stopped, telling herself that he'd probably think her crazy with what she was about to say.

"But what, Ginny? Please, help me catch this guy before he harms anyone else."

Ginny took a breath, "You'd think I was crazy," she said quietly, but not so that he couldn't hear her.

"With what I've experienced as my years as Sheriff, nothing's too crazy for me to comprehend."

"Ok…I believe it to be…Jason, Jason Voorhees." There, she'd said it, however the look on Sheriff Rodgers' face spoke of uncertainty, as though he was trying to believe what she'd said, but rationality seemed to creep its ugly head in.

"Jason Voorhees? Pamela's boy? He's been dead for almost three decades now, miss. It can't be him." He said doubtfully, but Ginny was convinced that it was him, "Care to vouch for that, Sheriff?" She replied, clearly mimicking what he'd asked earlier, the Sheriff not answering her as he leant from one foot to the other. "I've heard that the officers investigating his disappearance never actually found his body," she went on, sitting upright again, "What's not to say that the killer who butchered all my friends, and could've killed me and Paul too, isn't Jason Voorhees?"

What she was trying to suggest was too…fantastical for his mind to work out, but she did make a valid point. Jason's body was never recovered all those years ago, indicating that he _could've_ survived the drowning. Those tunnels they were shown by Paul underneath the Counsellor Training Centre and Camp Crystal Lake _could've_ well been inhabited by Jason, cleverly hiding himself away from the world who long thought him dead.

Suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable about the realization that Jason Voorhees might be amongst the living, and the cause of this horrendous massacre, Sheriff Rodgers retrieved his hat from the table, mounting it back on his top of his head. "I think that's enough questioning for now. I shall leave you alone to get some much needed rest. You'd been through a helluva lot last night."

As he was about to leave the room, he turned back, "Like I said, me and my men will search incessantly for the killer, **Jason Voorhees **or not." He said with determination, before he bowed his hat to her and left, allowing Paul to pass by him on his way out.

Whether the sheriff believed her or not about Jason, Ginny couldn't help, but breathe a sigh of relief as she laid back against the pillows, leaning into Paul's touch as he brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face. She didn't much care anyway, now that she was away from Crystal Lake and finally safe from the horror that dwelled there…

* * *

Little did she know that, somewhere amongst the trees that surrounded the small hospital outside, a bulky man was stumbling through it; his overalls coloured in wet crimson, his breathing raspy as he forced his body , his stamina onwards, both hands pressing hard against both wounds. Amongst all that, Jason had managed to elude the police, and track Ginny and Paul to a memorial hospital in the neighbouring town of Newton they were residing in. In the hour-and-an-half that it took for him to get there, using the shortcuts, his wounds were already healing, surprising even Jason for he did not know his body could mend itself as quickly as it was doing now.

He could've lost his arm back there, if he weren't so burly in his physique, and he knew that he would've been dead, if it weren't for his _inhuman_ healing ability. However, he couldn't dwell on it for too long, for he had a score to settle inside that hospital…and nothing was going to stand in his way until he'd completed what he'd started…

**The End**?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, so that's the end of another chapter in my "reinvention" of the _Friday the 13th _series! I also wanted to end it like that so when I start to write up the next installment, plainly titled _**Friday the 13th III**_, I'd be able to include both Ginny and Paul as well as Chris Higgins and her brood from _**Part 3**_, but maybe change the characters of Chilli, Chuck, Fox, Loco, and Ali into characters more relatable. I personally don't like them! You lot might, but I don't. **Period**. It also gives me the opportunity to invent original, gruesome deaths for them. I should have the "Details" section and Chapter One up soon, so please watch out for it and don't forget to R & R! It gives me my inspiration! b(^-^)d


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